Fool Lystar
by truegold-dragonstar
Summary: Lystar is clumsy and slow, the least likely candidate for Impression in the Weyr. She's desperate for a dragon but will this Hatching be different? And if she does Impress, will it be the end of her problems?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Everything to do with Pern and the dragons of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey. Only the characters and plot presented here are mine.**

**AN: This story is deliberately set at an unspecified place in an unspecified time. Sorry, but that's the way it is. Please R&R and give me lots of feedback! (Thanks Kitsuneko, note the changes). Enjoy it!**

* * *

_They're hatching…_

The whisper travelled swiftly through the Weyr, passing through the crowded kitchens and long corridors. The dragons were humming softly in their throats, filling the air with sound. Everywhere, people who heard the news from each other or had warning from their dragons finished off their tasks as swiftly as they easily could and made their way in chattering, speculative groups towards the Hatching Ground, fanning themselves against the heat as they looked down at the candidates for Impression – thirty or so boys in a tight huddle and seventeen girls, faces flushed with excitement and anticipation, some already eyeing the large queen egg.

Shifting from foot to foot to prevent the burning sand scorching her even through her tough wher-hide boots, Lystar tugged anxiously at the hem of her white tunic. She'd had it for her first Hatching, six turns ago, and now it was so pitifully short that she'd been forced to wear leggings underneath for decency's sake. Painfully, she was aware that her strange ensemble of clothing marked her out from all of the other girls. She topped most of them by a head too, her bony, gangly body, all knees and elbows, meaning that she was virtually the tallest candidate present. She hunched up her shoulders and hid behind her mane of tangled brown hair, hoping that she looked inconspicuous.

It was her last chance, Lystar knew that. In the six turns since she'd first walked onto the hatching ground, full of confidence, to see the tiny, imperious gold Impress her friend Amara, there had been twelve Hatchings, and Lystar had been presented as a candidate for five queens. By now, she knew, there was not much chance that she would Impress. She sneaked a glance sideways from behind her hair at the other girls. Smart money was on tiny, black-haired Marti, who had somehow found time to brush her hair as well as appearing immaculate in her clean, smooth tunic. Lystar looked down at herself, crumpled and stained from where she had spilled klah down herself as she served at breakfast and felt herself blushing a fiery red. If she was the queen, she knew who she'd choose. But yet… but yet… no one knew how a dragon chose his or her rider. However unlikely, it _might_ be her. It _just_ might. She was her parents' daughter, after all. People had been expecting her to Impress for years. Lystar tried hard to quench the little bubble of hope that rose in her chest, but couldn't suppress it completely. She might yet fly…

* * *

'Who's that tall girl?' Lord Holder Beric asked, his sharp gaze assessing the potential candidates. 'The one in the tunic about three sizes too small.' 

Weyrleader R'lan followed his pointing finger and smiled. 'That's our Lystar,' he said. 'Born and bred here in the Weyr. Not much chance for her today, I'm afraid.'

'It seems a shame,' remarked Reia, the Weyrwoman, in her calm, cultured voice. 'I know how much she longs for a dragon of her own.'

'Oh, she's good hearted,' R'lan agreed, 'if a little accident prone. But she won't Impress today. No, young Marti will be our new queenrider.'

Beric smiled with pleasure. Marti was holdbred, and distant kin to him. He had been both pleased and flattered when the Search had found her in his hold.

* * *

The heat haze rising off the sand distorted Lystar's vision of the spectators. They seemed hazy and far off, unrelated to the circle of sand where the candidates stood with the gleaming bulk of golden Shareth looming above them as she huddled protectively over her precious eggs, watching the youngsters suspiciously with eyes like molten metal. Lystar fidgeted nervously under her gaze and turned her eyes back to the watchers sitting in their orderly ranks. She felt sick. 

A loud crack split the air, and at the sound Lystar had to lock suddenly trembling knees in order to stay upright. A large egg at the centre of the Hatching Ground was shuddering, black cracks spreading across its surface like vines crept over the walls of the Weyr. The boys moved forwards, some eagerly and some with more caution, stepping carefully round the fragile ovoids that lay half-buried in the sand. Lystar had just time to see a stocky, red-haired boy crying tears of joy as he gathered a tiny bronze dragon into his arms before she heard the tell tale sounds of another egg beginning to crack open as the tiny dragon inside fought his or her way into the light.

When a murmur went up from the crowd, Lystar couldn't immediately see the cause. It wasn't until the other girls began to move, Marti at their head, that she looked back at the queen egg. Shareth was crooning gently over it and it had begun to rock gently in its nest of burning sand.

For a minute Lystar didn't want to move, to follow the others over just to be rejected again. She could just go, the thought flashed into her brain. She could leave the Hatching Ground now through the archway behind her and retain some shreds of her dignity. But there was always that tiny chance that today might be _her_ day…

She broke into an ungainly shuffling run as she attempted to catch up with the other girls without knocking into any of the precious eggs.

* * *

Reia frowned. 'I don't like the way she's huddling over that egg. The girls can't get near as it is and the little queen'll be hatching any minute.' _Shareth,_ she commanded, _move back. Let those girls come to the egg_. 

_No. Mine_.

_Shareth!_

The dragon protested, bugling loudly as she reared up. R'lan's Aneth lifted his voice to join his mate, but under Reia's steely glare Shareth was already backing down, moving away from the queen egg, so that the frightened girls, led by a bold Marti, could get close.

'Well done,' said R'lan, quietly, putting his hand on his weyrmate's shoulder. Beric was leaning forward in his seat.

'Look at Marti! That girl's got leadership qualities alright.'

'Certainly,' agreed R'lan, turning his eyes back to the Hatching Ground. Then he frowned. 'What's going on down there?'

* * *

Breathless and hot, Lystar had just caught up with the main bulk of the girls when Shareth reared up, glittering in the sunlight as she towered above the frightened girls. Shocked, Lystar jumped backwards, sure that her ears would never survive that earth shattering roar, and felt her boots knock against something solid. She staggered backwards a few steps and sat down hard on the gound, yelping as her bare hands touched the hot sand. Twisting around, she gaped in horror as the small egg she'd kicked rolled ponderously towards a tall, dark boy who was standing with his back to her and looking around him with an air of puzzlement and loss. Lystar could understand that. Nearly all of the eggs had hatched now, and few more of the boys would be able to Impress at this Hatching. But she didn't have much time to sympathize now. Spraying sand in all directions, Lystar scrambled up, half running and half crawling after the errant egg. She could just see how it would smash into the back of his legs, and he would collapse on top of it with consequences she dared not imagine. Pure fright gave her a boost of speed as she considered how Shareth would react if Lystar caused the death of one of her children. 

Lystar gave a yelp of triumph as she threw herself forwards, grabbed hold of the egg and snatched it safely to her chest. 'Wha – ?' said the boy, half turning, and then Lystar's flying weight hit him. He yelled in surprise as he folded up on top of her.

* * *

R'lan leapt down from tier to tier as he headed towards the hatching ground, Reia at his shoulder. All over the arena, people were pointing and muttering at the heap of bodies that had thudded onto the ground, sprays of burning sand flying up around them. R'lan barely noted that Marli had, as expected, Impressed the dainty little queen. If either of those two children had been hurt! Or the egg! 

They had just reached the lowest tier and R'lan swung himself down to the hatching floor as the dark boy pulled himself up, shaking his head and brushing sand from his clothing. 'Well that's one thing to be thankful for,' Reia muttered, and R'lan knew that she'd been entertaining the same sort of dreadful thoughts as him. They both knew the scrapes that Lystar could get herself into with the very best of intentions.

* * *

Lystar lay curled in the foetal position, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Her face, half-buried in the burning sand, was smarting so much that she bit her tongue to stifle a scream. But it doesn't really matter, she thought, through the pain. This is nothing to what I'm going to get… She had felt the egg shift in her hands and knew that her efforts had been in vain. It had been damaged, and Shareth, Aneth, R'lan and Reia were never going to forgive her. It cracked apart more even as she held it, and a large chunk fell away, leaving her clutching at wet, jagged edges.

* * *

'She's really hurt.' R'lan said, grimly, lengthening his stride so that Reia had to break into a gentle run to keep up. It was as unlike Lystar's earlier effort as anything could be. Even wearing inappropriate shoes on the hatching ground, Reia was everything that was elegant and collected. But she was on the verge of losing her cool now. Of all people, it would be little Lystar…

* * *

Something sharp pricked Lystar's chest through her old, thin tunic. Her eyes flew open and then she sat up in shock, her hair and face crusted with sand. The tiny dragon in her arms whistled sharply, protesting the sudden movement, his other foreleg closing round her arm to hold himself steady. She winced in pain and a couple of scarlet drops of blood blossomed through the old tunic. 

Her burnt skin forgotten, Lystar gazed down. The baby dragon's blue wings were a dark tracing between the struts of bone, sodden still with the birth membrane, but his claws were sharp and his eyes were bright as chips of burning sapphire as he looked up at her. _I am Caliath. Feed me!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Everything to do with Pern and the dragons of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey. Only the characters and plots presented here are my own.**

**AN: This chapter is quite long and nothing much really happens, sorry. It's necessary to have it in order for things to happen next time. Please R&R, I would love to hear your comments, even if they're bad.

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**

Yes, it had been worth it, Lystar decided, after some months of catering to Caliath's constant demands. By the end she'd almost screamed with frustration when asked, _yet again_, to find food to fill her dragon's seemingly bottomless stomach, but it was all worth it now. Now she and Caliath, along with all the other Weyrlings from their Hatching, were going to begin flying together.

She finished oiling him one last time, spreading the thick, gloopy stuff evenly across his rough, warm hide. A lot of the Weyrlings hated this task, but Lystar never minded getting dirty and she welcomed the chance to spend a long time with her beautiful blue dragon, relaxing with the soothing movements of an often repeated task, burnishing his hide until it glowed through the oil with a misty shine.

_That's good_, Caliath told her, shrugging his shoulders as she kneaded oil into his wing joints. _We will fly well today_.

_Um-hmm_. Lystar finished her job and leant back against her dragon's solid body, not caring that the oil smeared across her shirt. At least with her hair clipped short so that she could cram it into a flying helmet she didn't have to worry about getting it full of the gunk. _Love you, Cal_.

_I love you too_, Caliath said, and sensing the root of her problem said again, _We will fly well today_.

'I hope so.' Lystar said aloud. They were alone in the quarters which they shared with Marti and her young queen Minath, it having been judged inappropriate for Lystar to share with the boys, so there was nobody to overhear her conversation with her dragon. _But what if I'm not as good as the boys, Cal? You're the most wonderful dragon in the whole world, but you're only a blue. It's not like people really _minded _that I Impressed instead of one of the boys, but I've had a few comments made. I'm not just any girl, after all, I'm clumsy old Lystar, everybody's fool_.

_You are _not _just any girl_, Caliath said firmly. _You are Lystar, Caliath's rider. You are special_.

_Love you, Cal_, said Lystar again, but her thoughts were elsewhere. The fool Lystar, yes. Only Impressed by accident – she'd heard it said… _Caliath, why did you choose me? At the Hatching. I mean, I wasn't doing any of that stuff we're supposed to do, like broadcasting love and acceptance or anything_. She didn't dare add, Was it just because I happened to be there? Would you have Impressed someone else?

_You were trying to protect me_, Caliath said, simply. _Even though I was only in the egg._ His long neck snaked round so that he faced her, and Lystar caught the sly glint in his eye as he added, _Even though I am only a blue_.

'Oh.'

_You gave your sight for me_. Caliath added. Lystar's hand flew to her face, leaving a smear of oil over the smooth new skin which had finally grown over her burns. She'd never, never told anybody that her vision in her left eye had become misty and obscured since her accident on the Hatching Ground. She'd not even told Caliath, although he seemed to know anyway. _You haven't told anyone, have you?_ she asked anxiously. _Or any other dragons?_

_No. Should I have?_

'No!' Lystar yelled it at the full force of her lungs. _No! You mustn't tell anyone, Cal. Not even Shareth. Especially not Shareth, in fact, or Aneth. It's important._ She'd done such a good job covering up, forcing herself not to turn and look at people with her good eye, learning to identify people standing on that side of her by their voice and step and gut instinct. But dragons were notoriously unable to keep things from their queen…

_Why not?_

_What use is a dragonrider with one eye?_ Lystar asked in answer. _None at all, that's how much. Even less than Lystar the fool. If anyone gets to hear of it we'll never be allowed to fly together. Maybe not even in fun, certainly not against thread._ And father will kill me, she added privately to herself. They were so proud when I finally became a real dragonrider – even if I missed the party because of my burns…

_Shareth would stop us flying together?_

_R'lan and Reia would, certainly_.

Caliath considered this for a minute, regarding her through his steady blue eyes. _I won't tell anyone_, he said, and heaved himself up, knocking her off balance so that she had to put a hand against the wall to steady herself. _Now let's go. We are late_.

* * *

Old G'zul, the Weyrling master, surveyed the crowd of teenagers and young dragons in front of him. A mixed bunch, this. He had years of experience judging youngsters, and it enabled him to sweep his eyes across his charges, picking out with unerring accuracy those who would shine. Not the lad he'd have marked out as a bronzerider, T'ril, but he was solid and sensible and Haleth was already a head taller than the other young dragons. He might easily fly a queen one day. The other bronze out of this clutch was smaller, and G'zul thought that was probably not such a bad thing. Heart-throb K'tar was far too often blind to other people's feelings and needs to make a good Weyrleader. 

And the others… Galath was a promising brown, and his small, cheeky rider N'bor would be a loyal second, while organised and efficient S'mar would fill a similar post in an entirely different way. Belligerent T'ban needed to learn to control his temper but would be a fearless companion to Fareth. There were a fair few greens and blues, and they and their riders ran the full range from organised and capable T'kor and Selith to the agile and quick-witted Desath and L'mar. There was brave Marti and Minath to lead them, as well. All in all, a promising clutch…

And then… a faint frown swept across the old rider's face as he came to the end of the line. Lystar. An odd pairing, a girl and a blue, though not unheard of. Certainly she and Caliath were the odd ones out here (and surely that dragon was far too thin and bony? But he knew for a fact that Caliath ate enough to sustain any two of his clutchmates).Well, she would be treated no differently from anyone else in _his_ classes, that was for sure. He merely hoped that she would be a credit to him. He had no problems with training a girl as a combat rider, but Lystar was not noted for either her hand-eye coordination, her balance or her accurate judgement of size and distance.

The girl returned his gaze defiantly as he met her eyes. Well, he would see.

* * *

Lystar saw G'zul sweep his eyes down the line of candidates and stop when he reached her. She felt her face burning and lifted her chin, glaring, to show him that she didn't care what he thought. She and Caliath _would_ fly well, as well as any of the boys. Better! 

G'zul turned away and, gesturing to the young riders to gather round, began to explain how to fit and adjust a dragon's saddle. In due time they'd have to make their own, measured to fit their dragons, but there was no point until the young animals had finished growing. Today they would use spares.

G'zul sent them up one by one, his brown Oreth helping to explain to the dragons how to balance and adjust to the weight in flight and for take off and landing. As each in turn lifted off, circled the Weyr and came back to earth with varying degrees of confidence and assurance, G'zul dismissed them, and the courtyard began to empty slowly. Most of the young dragons, when divested of their saddles by fumbling fingers unused to the task, flew off to hunt before taking a nap, but G'zul was surprised to see that most of the lads hung around after their own turn. To see their friends fly, he assumed and thought about it no more.

* * *

Somehow, Lystar had gravitated to the end of the line of eager Weyrlings desperate to fly their dragons for the first time. She had been slow adjusting Caliath's saddle, knowing that it really mattered to get it right, and realising that if she tried to hurry the task she would probably get straps tangled up and make an embarrassing mess. But despite Caliath's assurances, she was nervous, her stomach twisting itself into knots. She was finally, _finally_, a dragonrider, a credit to her parents, and it was so important that she get it right… 

Lystar jumped like a startled cat, letting out a half-stifled cry, when G'zul tapped her on her left shoulder. She hadn't spotted him approaching in the peripheral vision of her bad eye.

_Come on!_ said Caliath, eagerly. _It's our turn now!

* * *

_

G'zul had never marked Lystar down as nervous, but he supposed that it was perfectly natural to be apprehensive at a moment like this. Even so, her reaction was a little violent, when she must surely have known that he was there…

Obeying a sudden compassionate impulse, G'zul turned on the boys hanging around the courtyard. Everyone liked Lystar, whom most of the Weyr had known since her birth, and he was no exception. If she was going to make a fool of herself, there was no need for her to have an audience. 'What do you lot want?' he demanded. 'Go on, get out.'

'I don't mind.' Lystar said instantly, clearly and loudly. G'zul met her gaze, a little startled, then smiled. Well, she had guts, that was obvious. Maybe she wouldn't do so badly after all.

Caliath flexed his wings and took a short run up before leaping into the air, Lystar crouched on his back. Yes, thought G'zul, watching the blue's muscles flexing as he took long, regular wingbeats. Considering her parentage, maybe there was more to Lystar than there seemed.

He winced as she and Caliath made an ill-judged landing, thudding hard onto the ground, Lystar's head whipping back as only the straps held her in the saddle. Or maybe not.

* * *

**AN: Please help me with comments this time! If there is anyone out there with medical knowledge, PLEASE tell me if the damage I've described to Lystar's eye is at all feasible, and whether it would be likely to be permanent damage or not. This is really important!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Everything to do with Pern and the dragons of Pern belongs to Anne McCaffrey. Only the characters and plot presented here are my own.**

**AN: I got slightly bored and decided to cut straight to the action… well, slightly past most of the action in fact… so watch out for the time gap between this and the previous chapter. If it's confusing then I need to know! Please R&R, and I'd especially welcome feedback on whether the time jumps works or not and whether this chapter seems to fit in with everything you've heard so far. Personally, I think it's a bit too abrupt and jagged, but it was unbelievably hard to write and you've been waiting a long time so in the end I just posted the thing. Please give me any advice you can! Enjoy it if you can; hopefully the next one will be better.

* * *

**

Lystar woke up slowly. Her side was burning, and for a confused moment she thought that she was back on the Hatching Ground. Then she shifted and the pain lancing through her left side woke her completely, and she remembered.

_Cal? Are you there?_

_I'm here_.

_Are you alright?_

_I've been better. I am surviving. So are you_.

_Mm-hmm. Cal, what _happened_? One moment we were flying with the rest of the wing, then…_

'Lystar, are you awake?' The voice belonged to Gilda, the tiny, withered headwoman. She'd looked after Lystar for as long as the girl could remember.

'Uh…' Lystar grunted, then cleared her throat and tried again, forcing the words out. 'Yes. I think.'

'Well, you shouldn't be.' Gilda said, briskly. 'Go back to sleep. Is your side hurting?' Without waiting for an answer, she flipped back the light blanket covering Lystar and the girl felt the cool, soothing touch of numbweed on her wounds. She could feel herself beginning to slip away. Gilda was right, she was very tired…

The last thing she heard was Gilda's approving grunt. 'It's healing just as it should, there's one blessing. I'll say this for you and that great bony monster of yours, Lystar, you're tough.'

* * *

When she woke R'lan's face was hanging over her. 'Huh?' she asked, vaguely. 

'Shards, Lystar!' the Weyrleader exclaimed. 'Can't you even look after yourself? Why didn't you see that thing coming?'

'It was on – ' Lystar began to explain, dutifully, then broke off in confusion, remembering who she was talking to. 'I don't know.' It was on my blind side, she wanted to explain. I couldn't spot it with my bad eye, and by the time Cal noticed it we couldn't dodge out of the way.

'It was what?' asked R'lan, ominously quiet. 'You don't know. This can't go on, Lystar! Three times you've flown thread, and three times you've returned scored! As of now, I'm relieving you of your flying duties.'

'WHAT?' Lystar shrieked, jerking upright. 'Father, you can't do that! All dragonriders fly thread!'

'Well, you don't, not any more. Faranth's egg, girl, you're a danger to yourself and the rest of the wing!' He stopped, and when he spoke again she could hear the crack in his voice, now rougher and gentler than she'd ever heard him. 'It's for the best. You look after yourself, Lystar, and that great bony monster of yours. Reia and I couldn't do without you.'

Lystar said nothing, silently turning her head away to hide the welling tears. She reached desperately for Caliath, but her dragon was deeply asleep and she could find no comfort there. Now I'm not even a real dragonrider, she thought sadly, as her thoughts whirled away into blackness. What have I got left?

* * *

Gilda settled back down in her chair beside Lystar's bed as the girl drifted back to sleep, wiping the remains of the numbweed off her hands before pulling out the lists of stores she was keeping up to date. You would imagine, she thought, slightly acidly, that with two and a half Weyrwomen, somebody would be able to keep up with their traditional role as keeper of the records, but no. She had to do it. 

She checked through another row of details before relenting slightly. She had to acknowledge that Reia did her fair share of the work, she thought, with a little glow of pride in her daughter's rise to Senior Weyrwoman. And little Marti was smart enough, if rather preoccupied by her growing dragon at present. Thinking of the other junior Weyrwoman, though, Gilda pursed her lips together. It was certainly not for the likes of her to comment if she felt that Bessa was far too flighty and feather-headed to fill her present post. It was certainly no surprise to the old headwoman that Halith had lain no queen egg in the six years since her first mating flight.

A slight frown deepening all the lines that ran across her brown, weathered face like cracks through sun-dried ground, Gilda worked vigorously through her figures. The noise and bustle of a busy Weyr drifted to her through the thick door, and absently she listened to the noises of people moving up and down the corridor, checking people off in her head against their daily chores. Lystar was sleeping downstairs, in an empty room often used for visitors to the Weyr; it would have been far too much trouble for the women who sat with her to continuously have to find a dragonrider willing to take them up to Lystar and Caliath's weyr.

She raised her head instantly when she heard Lystar stirring. Gilda picked up her pot of numbweed and moved to the bed, wondering if the girl's injuries had woken her again.

'Lystar?'

There was no audible response, but Lystar shifted again, more violently and made a small breathless noise, like a cry of pain. Alarmed by the terror on the girl's face, Gilda reached out sharply to place a hand on Lystar's good shoulder and shake her. Lystar jerked a little; then she screamed.

* * *

_All around them were dragons and riders, soaring and diving through the heat of the battle, elegantly breathing fire to sear their ancient enemy from the sky and prevent the thread from landing on the fertile farmland. But Lystar had no sense of the fight as a whole; it was noisy and hot, and far too much was happening at once. Wherever they looked or turned there was a dragon, and only the drills they'd practised and practised over again had kept them from colliding with someone so far. They'd had to jump into _between _twice; not to avoid threads, just other dragons. Lystar was almost weeping with frustration, only Caliath's reassuring presence in her mind letting her hang on to her self-control. She'd promised herself that it would be different today, that _finally _she and Caliath would be a useful and effective member of the fighting force, but they hadn't flamed a single thread. She glared fiercely into space, knowing that her eyes were suspiciously red and bright. The best she could hope for would be to return home with no major injuries…_

_The thread came from behind her, to the left, and that was her undoing. Caliath was busy dodging another dragon as they entered a thick patch of thread, and he didn't see it. That was her job; but she didn't see it, and the thread sliced through her flying clothes like a knife through melted butter and through Caliath's hide and it was burning, burning and sharp and in her head Caliath was screaming as it tore through the membrane of his left wing and he lost height, spiralling down towards the goldriders below as he desperately attempted to use his shredded wing, and she was screaming, and then the cold hit her as Caliath made a desperate jump _between_ and she knew she hadn't visualised the Weyr or any other destination and the utter nothingness of _between _swallowed her terrified voice…

* * *

_

Lystar woke with a jerk, drenched in sweat, her throat still ripped raw by her scream. _Caliath!_

_I'm here._

_Are you alright? I thought…_

_You thought things that scared you. You dreamt things that scared you, and they scared me because you were scared._

Lystar sat up suddenly, ignoring the pain in her side as all the horror and terror of her nightmare came back to her. _You went _between_! You were hurt and screaming and you jumped _between_ and I thought you would never come back!_

_I brought you home._ Caliath's voice in her mind sounded vaguely puzzled.

_I know._ With a sigh, Lystar released tense muscles, smiling unseeingly at Gilda as the head woman slid an arm around her to support her as she lifted a cup of water to the girl's lips. She could feel her racing heart slowing back to its normal rate. _I wasn't thinking very clearly, that's all. It was just something that came into my head._ Even her mental voice betrayed a tremor she couldn't disguise as she asked anxiously. _You are all right, aren't you? You're healing fine?_

Without answering her question, Caliath jumped straight to the heart of her anxiety. _I will not leave you_.

_Ever?_

_Ever._

Lystar sighed again, an expression of intense relief. _Love you, Cal_._ But, oh, Caliath!_

_What?_

_R'lan has stopped us flying._

Caliath sounded only puzzled. _He cannot. I am a dragon. You are my rider. We fly._

_But not against thread, not any more. We're too clumsy –and with this eye of mine we don't see things in time to react. What are we going to do, Cal? After all this time, all this training and the heartbreak, and we're not even allowed to do what normal dragons and riders do!_

Caliath took a long time to answer. He was distressed by Lystar's despair, but he couldn't understand her misery.

_Aneth's rider is worried for you_, he said at last. _But you are my rider and we will fly._

For the first time in her life Lystar found herself thinking, Caliath just doesn't understand!

'Alright?' asked Gilda, softly, watching the girl's face as she finished talking to her dragon. The old woman put down the cup on a nearby table, supporting her Lystar in both arms.

Lystar's lips quivered. 'No,' she sobbed, and burst into tears, burying her head in the rough cloth of her grandmother's shoulder. 'Caliath and I aren't allowed to fly and things may never be alright again.'

* * *

**AN: There you go… hardly top standard writing, but it gives you the info you need. If anyone has any suggestion for making Lystar's emotions more vivid and real, please let me know asap. Thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed me, especially Kitsuneko and Rimmersworld who did it twice – now everyone is going to comment again, _aren't_ you…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Pern. The dragons of Pern. Anne McCaffrey. You can probably recite this in your sleep by now. Lystar, however, is mine.**

**AN: Yet another time gap, sorry. I think main characters who spend all their time ill are boring, so I have cut the rest of Lystar and Caliath's convalescence and return them to you at full fighting fitness. Please review me! Big thanks to everyone who has, especially Kitsuneko and Rimmersworld who have faithfully reviewed every chapter so far. A warning: some strange things happen in this chapter. Don't worry about it. You're not supposed to understand (yet). Lystar certainly doesn't.

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**

Lystar clenched her hands into fists, swallowing and blinking furiously as the last wing of dragons leapt from the ground in close formation, rose upwards past her vantage point to join the rest of the Weyr. The sky was full of dragons, and Lystar could feel the wind made by the fanning of several hundred wings gusting into her face as she gazed longingly up at the gleaming beasts filling the sky. Then in the flicker of a heatbeat they were gone, and the sky was full of a gaping emptiness that seemed to mock Lystar's loneliness.

_Don't be sad_, said Caliath, plaintively. _Why are you sad?_

'I'm sad because I'm useless,' Lystar said aloud, her words reverberating through the empty air. She and her dragon were perched on the rim of the Weyr. Behind them was the quietness of a Weyr with no dragons and they were looking out across fields full of the pale new green of spring and the sparkling, bright blueness that was the sea. Here there was no sign of the thread that had emptied the Weyr for this afternoon.

'Totally useless,' she repeated. 'Why didn't you Impress a _proper_ rider, Cal?'

Now Caliath's voice had a definite quaver. _Don't you want me?_

'Oh, no! No, Cal, that's not what I meant at _all_!' Lystar threw her arms around her dragon's neck. 'You're perfect and I wouldn't change you for the world. Not for my vision to clear up, or to fly thread, or not be clumsy, or anything at all!'

_Good_. Caliath spread his wings to catch as much sunlight as possible, stretching his long body lazily so that his hide glowed a bright sapphire. Then he stiffened, gazing upwards, and Lystar felt his mind suddenly alert and watchful.

_What is it, Cal?_ She peered out to sea, closing her bad eye so she wasn't distracted. She could see a dark shape over the sparkling waves that had not been there a minute ago – a dragon had jumped out of _between_.

_It's Rosith_, said Caliath. _But she is tired. She is too tired to talk_.

Lystar could see it as the green flew closer. Her hide was pale and dull, not glowing with the health and strength of an active dragon and every wingstroke seemed to take a massive effort. 'She's not going to make it in! Cal, take me down to the bowl quick, then go see if you can help her!'

Lystar slid from Caliath's back as soon as he came near the ground and landed hard, jarring her knees and ankles. She took a couple of staggering steps and then, recovering her balance, dashed into the Weyr. 'Gilda!'

As the tough, wrinkled Headwoman began calmly to organise her staff, Lystar ran back again out into the free air of the bowl. The last thing she heard was Gilda sending for the Healer before she crashed out through the archway. She misjudged it, knocking into the corner of the arch with her recently healed side so that she doubled over in pain, gasping for breath.

As the throbbing in her side washed away, Lystar straightened and looked upwards. Furtively glancing behind her, she covered her bad eye and stared up with the good one. The dark silhouette covering the sky looked oddly misshapen unless you knew it was two dragons, one with his body slid underneath the other, bracing and supporting an exhausted beast. 'Come on, Cal,' she muttered. 'You're doing great…'

_Rosith is heavy!_ Caliath gasped in her mind. _But I can do it. Stand back!_

Lystar retreated to the very edge of the bowl, stumbling on the rough ground in her haste, as Caliath frantically backwinged to rapidly cut the speed of the descending dragons before slipping out from underneath Rosith. He was a bit lower than he'd bargained for, and Lystar caught her breath in horror as he banked steeply in a desperate mess of frantic flapping to avoid crashing into the solid rock wall of the bowl. She winced with Caliath's pain as he clipped the corner of his wing; and then he was free, flapping up above the Weyr to circle round and come in to land more gradually.

Lystar let out her breath in a long sigh of relief and then leapt back towards the centre of the open space. Rosith landed hard, with a thump, her neck and wings drooping to the floor, and the small dark figure on her back was jerked off her back. He fell with no attempt to save himself, all crumpled up like a child's doll; and Lystar leapt forwards to catch the exhausted rider, supporting his limp form with her shoulder and staggering under his weight. She knew K'beth slightly; she'd been pleased when he'd Impressed at the very first opportunity after she'd bowled him over on the Hatching Ground that day and she'd made a point of congratulating him. He was lively, energetic and cheerful – usually. Now he was half-dead with exhaustion, black-rimmed eyes startling against parchment-pale skin and hair flopping limply across his face. But he was concious and in command of himself; he looked up at her and managed a shadow of a smile. 'I'm shardin' glad to see you, Lystar.'

* * *

Lystar crept along the corridor, furtively drawing back the heavy hanging which covered the door of the room where they'd put K'beth. She been ignomiously banished from the sickroom after she stumbled over her own feet in the corridor and sent the healer crashing to the ground, but K'beth's drawn white face had made a deep impression on her mind and she felt that she had to check if he was alright.

Gilda had spared a minute to tell the anxious girl that K'beth was merely exhausted and would be fine after a great deal of sleep, so Lystar wasn't expecting to find him awake. She peered into the darkened room cautiously. She didn't want to open the glowbasket in case it roused the sleeper, so she drew the hanging open as wide as she could to let light from the corridor penetrate the room.

Then she stiffened in shock. K'beth was awake and watching her, the whites of his eyes gleaming in the light she had let in.

'Lystar,' he said, quietly.

'Yes? Is there something you need?' she asked anxiously. 'You should be sleeping…'

'I couldn't sleep until I'd seen you. You're so strong, Lystar… you can't see that, can you? And straight and true as an arrow.'

'What?' Startled, Lystar dropped the hanging in her hand and it swung shut, brushing across the floor and leaving them in absolute darkness. 'Shards!' She began feeling around for the edge of it, using tiny motions to avoid knocking into anything and causing a commotion. 'K'beth, I hardly know you! What are you talking about?'

'No, you don't know me yet, Lystar, but I know you.' K'beth's voice was faint, as though he fought off exhaustion in order to talk to her. 'That's the first thing you have to remember. Different people know different things at different times. Keep track of it.'

'K'beth, what's going on?' Lystar asked. 'Stop it! You're worrying me.' Then she blessed the darkness which covered up her furious blush at the quavering note in her own voice. She heard K'beth shift, and then her hand hit the glow basket and she knocked off the top, flooding the room with light. Blinking furiously, she glared at K'beth, who had lifted himself onto his elbow and was looking at her anxiously, his face strained.

'Just remember, Lystar!' It was clearly an effort for him to raise himself. 'You _must_ keep track. That's the first thing. And you must remember how strong you are and how tough. You can do anything if you put your mind to it, you and Caliath. Anything!'

Lystar knew that she must be as white as him. She was more than a little scared. K'beth was alright, a decent sort, usually, but now he was behaving in such a weird way that Lystar wanted nothing more than to flee out of the room – only she was not convinced that her legs would hold her up. _Help me, Cal!_ she thought desperately. What was going on here? She was Lystar useless, Lystar nobody, Lystar fool. She was not, emphatically _not_, the kind of girl who got mixed up in mysterious and frightening business.

'You're _not_ nobody,' said K'beth, as if he'd read her mind and Lystar jumped with the shock, missing Caliath's answer, if he gave her one. 'That's the last thing, Lystar. _Never_ think like that. Remember that you are special. You and Caliath can do things other people would never even dream of. No one found out about your eye, did they?'

Lystar gasped as though a bucket of water had been poured over her and her hand flew to her face. 'How did you – '

K'beth was not listening. He sank back to the bed his eyes closing, and Lystar felt a sudden spasm of fear. She leapt across to the bedside. 'Are you all right?'

She thought he wasn't going to respond, but K'beth's lips opened slightly and he breathed, 'Yes. Just so tired… Remember, Lystar. You must remember.'

* * *

_Why are you scared?_ Caliath asked her. _No one has tried to harm you_.

Sitting out in the afternoon sunshine, with Caliath's reassuring presence close by, Lystar's fear and alarm were beginning to recede, but she shook her head stubbornly. _You weren't there, Cal. It was creepy_.

_It was strange_, Caliath admitted. _I _was_ there. I was with you… Rosith also was strange_.

_Huh?_ Lystar frowned. _You didn't tell me. How was Rosith strange?_

_You were busy. And Rosith was glad to see me_.

_Well, of course she was!_ Lystar said. _I don't know what they've been doing, but obviously it's been pretty tough. She was obviously glad to be home and meet a friendly dragon_.

_No_. Caliath sounded sure of himself. _She was glad to see _me. _As if I was her special friend_.

_That's how K'beth acted too! As if he knew me really well_.

They fell silent for a minute. Lystar could smell the salt tang of the sea and hear the gulls faintly in the distance. A slight breeze had blown up, whipping back her hair which was beginning to grow out a little. She hadn't bothered to cut it back. What was the point when she'd probably never find it necessary to wear a flying helmet again?

_My wings ache_, said Caliath suddenly. _Let's go flying_.

Lystar looked up at him, startled. _Are we allowed?_

Dragons couldn't shrug, but Lystar was fairly sure that had Caliath been human he would have done so. He snaked his head round to look her in the eye so that she could see the mischievous glint in his glittering sapphire glance. _Does it matter? No one is here to stop us. No one will even know_.

'You're right!' said Lystar aloud, startled. 'Since we don't belong to a wing any more we've slipped right through the system! No one's responsible for us. I guess someone would notice if we were away for days – but barring that we can do anything we want!' She laughed, experiencing a dizzy sense of freedom. There were no restrictions or rules laid down for them any more. The whole expanse of the heavens was theirs to roam. She and Cal could do anything!

Then she went cold. That was what K'beth had said. Was this what he had meant? How did he know?

_I have a thought_, offered Caliath. _Rosith and her rider are very tired. Perhaps they are confused?_

_That could be it, Cal! They've got themselves mixed up, hence all the strange stuff K'beth said. They think we're someone else, maybe. That would explain everything!_ She almost laughed with relief. Caliath had found the obvious solution. And as for the coincidence of she and Caliath being able to do anything that they wanted – well, that was all it was, a coincidence! _Come on, Cal – let's fly!_ she said joyfully. _Am I dressed well enough?_

_We won't fly _between, Caliath promised. _You won't get cold_.

Laughing again with the shock of tension released, Lystar scrambled onto Caliath's back, ignoring the sting as she scraped a knee against the dragon's rough hide.

* * *

Cleanly and strongly, Caliath's wings cut through the air. He surged upwards with all the energy of several months of imposed rest, and Lystar clung onto her riding straps to stop herself sliding as he ascended steeply. She yelled at the top of her mental voice and Caliath echoed her joyous exultation. They were young, they were free, and it was spring, the whole air full of the fresh green energy of growing things and the promise of summer!

Then, his first excess of energy worked off, Caliath leveled out to soar lazily across the land, his dark shadow swooping across the fields below, then over the beaches, and finally across the sparkling waves. Lystar relaxed a little, tilting her head back to get the sun on her face and closing her eyes, attempting to wipe K'beth's ominous behaviour out of her head.

She was fighting a losing battle. The more she tried obstinately to forget it, the more his words kept returning to her. _Remember, Lystar… you don't know me yet, Lystar, but I know you… you're so strong, Lystar…_

Then the obvious clicked. Lystar felt her stomach plummeting away from her. _Cal,_ she asked, quietly, _if K'beth is mixed up and confusing me with someone else, how come he kept using my name? And Cal – how did he know about my eye? That's what really worries me… whether he's serious or not, how did he find out? What if he tells someone?_

Caliath was silent. He had no answer.

Lystar shivered, and as she did so realised that the air temperature had cooled. Looking about her, she had to shade her eyes against the sun, now slipping towards the horizon. _Time to head home_, she said, a little alarmed. _How far out are we, Cal? How long until we get back?_

_Not so far_, Caliath told her, reassuringly, as he swung round back towards the Weyr. _I haven't been flying in a straight line or we'd be back over land by now. An hour, maybe._

'Not _far_, Cal? An hour?' Lystar twisted in the saddle to look back at the sun, now behind her, trying to judge how long it would take to sink entirely. And it would be lower at home, she supposed, since they were flying away from it now. _It's too long. They'll be back any time, if not already, and I need to try and get a word with K'beth_. She set her teeth, thinking of her light summer clothing. _We'll go_ between. _It won't be quite the dinner hour at home if we get there in a couple of minutes, so we won't be missed_.

_Will do_.

Lystar could feel Caliath preparing to transfer _between_ and braced herself, hoping she'd be warm enough. Her stomach twisted a little with nervousness, and she quelled it firmly. There's nothing to be afraid of, Lystar, she told herself.

* * *

Caliath jumped _between_…

…Lystar was in utter nothingness, no sense or feeling but the piercing cold, even Caliath's reasurring shape beneath her vanished into emptiness…

_…and Caliath was screaming, screaming in pain from the thread that had scored through his wing and in fear and confusion and desperation he jumped _between _and Lystar screamed, not because she was badly hurt – though her scores were like fiery knives – but because Caliath was going, he was leaving her…_

_Get out, Cal!_ she screamed. _Get out of between! Come back! Don't leave me!_

_…she could still see it so clearly, the mass of dragons and the patch of thread that she noticed too late, glowing in the bright light of early morning…_

…and Caliath burst out of _between_.

* * *

**AN: Dah dah dah…**

**Sorry about the cliffhanger. I couldn't resist. Does ending it there _prove _that something dramatic is going to happen? Oh well, it's a pretty safe bet. Anyway, this chapter was getting a bit long, so I'll save the explanations for next time. Well, some of them, anyway. Others may remain a mystery for a while yet. Actually, I know I said you're not supposed to understand what's going on yet, but if you pay attention to that last section and some of the things K'beth said, you might be able to guess. Some of it, anyway.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The Dragons of Pern _still_ belong to Anne McCaffrey**

**AN: Here you go, you can have some explanations now (some, I said, not all. Don't get greedy). This one's quite short, though, sorry – I've had the flu, and what with that and catching up with school work I've barely had a minute. I thought it was better to put out a short one now, just to keep in touch, and go for a long and interesting one next time.

* * *

****I'm just going to start by copying out the last bit of the previous chapter, since I'm following on directly:**

Caliath jumped _between_…

…Lystar was in utter nothingness, no sense or feeling but the piercing cold, even Caliath's reasurring shape beneath her vanished into emptiness…

_…and Caliath was screaming, screaming in pain from the thread that had scored through his wing and in fear and confusion and desperation he jumped _between _and Lystar screamed, not because she was badly hurt – though her scores were like fiery knives – but because Caliath was going, he was leaving her…_

_Get out, Cal!_ she screamed. _Get out of between! Come back! Don't leave me!_

_…she could still see it so clearly, the mass of dragons and the patch of thread that she noticed too late, glowing in the bright light of early morning…_

…and Caliath burst out of _between_.

* * *

There were dragons everywhere, and Caliath whirled round, turning as tightly as he could and twisting away, labouring to gain height and get out of the mayhem. Lystar clung to his back, her hands, tightly twisted through the riding straps, suddenly shaking. She shut her eyes, flopping on Caliath's back as a wave of dizziness and weakness passed over her. No! she thought, biting her lip. Mustn't pass out, whatever happens. Got to…

A thick patch of thread scythed towards them and Caliath shot away as fast as he could. Lystar was jerked sideways and half out of her saddle, spread-eagled across Caliath's side. From there she could see below her as Caliath pulled out of the formation of dragons and soared away from the leading edge of the threadfall. And down below, that clump of thread fell with deadly purpose to slice through the extended wing of a blue dragon and his rider, a slight figure compared to the rest of the dragonriders. The rider's reactions seemed slow, almost as if she were as weak and tired as Lystar herself, and she didn't seem to see the thread approaching over her left shoulder. But it was the sight of the dragon, so familiar and so well-loved, that told Lystar what had happened…

The injured blue jumped _between_, and almost at once Lystar's strength began to return and she dragged herself upright again. _Cal_, she gasped, fearfully, _what are we going to do now? We've Timed it!

* * *

_

It was a good thing that Caliath had had the sense to get his rider well away from thread and then set her down in what appeared to be an uncultivated area, because Lystar would not have thought of either of these things by herself. _I can take you back_, Caliath assured her, once she was seated on the ground with his warm body curled around her. _It's a simple enough jump. Please talk to me!_

'No,' Lystar's voice was hoarse and almost inaudible. She cleared her throat and tried again. 'No, you can't, Cal. How did we get here? That was a perfectly simple jump too, much easier than Timing it home would be. But I panicked, so we ended up here. _And if we try again, the same thing will happen again_. We're _trapped_ here, Cal, because I'm so _useless_.'

_You're not useless, you're not!_ Caliath cried, distressed. He butted his head against her, rainbow eyes whirling, nearly knocking her over into a sprawling heap. _You're special, wonderful, fantastic!_

Lystar sighed, and reached out to wrap her arms around her dragon's neck, her voice cracking. 'Caliath, I do love you so very much.'

_And I love you. And you are not useless. You're not to think that. K'beth told you not to and he was right_.

Lystar jolted upwards. _Time! Cal, this explains K'beth! This explains everything! Didn't he tell me to keep track? He must've – oh, I don't know, but somehow he found out we've been Timing it. Or wait – somehow he's _going_ to find out we've been Timing it. Are Timing it. Will have been Timing it_. She frowned. _Shards, I'm losing track already! Let me start again. We are back in time – how long? About three months off what we should be? – and there's no prospect of returning except by living through that time until we get back to where we should be. Fine. We can do that. Then sometime in those three months, we have to meet K'beth and Rosith and – what? Ask them if they can deliver a message to us? They'll think we're crazy! Faranth's Egg, I'm not sure if _I _don't think we're crazy!_

_We are not_, Caliath told her. _Let us go home. We can fly there straight. It will take several hours, but not too long. In the Weyr there are many people who will help us. Rosith and her rider will be there. We can explain what's happened and then if we have to spend three months waiting we will do it in comfort_.

Lystar whacked him affectionately. _That's a dragon all right, always thinking about his own comfort!_

_Yours too_, Caliath said, a little hurt.

_I know, you idiot, I was joking_. Lystar grinned at her dragon, then became serious again. _But we can't go to the Weyr, Cal. We're already there_.

_No, we are here_, Caliath pointed out, with impeccable logic.

_Yes, I know_. Lystar felt exhausted, and leant back against her dragon's warm body, letting Caliath's bulk support her. _But we're not the only us around at the moment, Cal. There's us… but there's also the _previous_ us, the us who are _supposed_ to be here. And they – us – are at the Weyr. Which means we can't go there. We might_ – Lystar broke off, going white. _Shards, we might kill ourselves if we went back to the Weyr now! Well, me anyway, I think you'd be all right. It's supposed to be impossible to meet yourself, and she's ill anyway… We can't even… she – me – the other Lystar – isn't going to _leave_ the Weyr during those three months, beacause she's in bed, so we can't even try to slip in while she's not there_. She frowned. _That would mean going _between_ anyway, I guess, so it's out…_ She broke off. _Wait a second, Cal. Rosith and K'beth. We saw them coming _into_ the Weyr – but they were wiped out, they'd been through some pretty tough times. When did they _leave

_I don't know_, Caliath said, then added, _but I would not. You and I were ill_.

_We _are_ ill_, Lystar corrected, absent-mindedly. _It's happening now, remember… But I don't recall seeing K'beth around for a bit before that. Cal – can you ask Rosith where she is?_

Caliath was silent for a minute, and Lystar looked around her. She and her dragon were perched in an area of scrubby heathland, with no dwelling anywhere in site. There were no real landmarks that she could pick out, only the gentle upswelling of hills coated in scrubby vegetation in all directions, and in the distance the faint blue haze of mountains. The sky was overcast and the wind chilly. Lystar huddled into a ball, rubbing her chilled arms, and gratefully curled up against Caliath, using his warm bulk as both a windshield and a heater. Dressed for late spring in her southern home, she was not prepared to face the weather much further north, in a time where spring was barely beginning to touch Pern.

_Rosith says it is secret and she is not allowed to tell me_, announced Caliath.

Lystar swore. _Tell her it's important – urgent, even, an emergency! – and promise not to tell anyone else_, she ordered. _We _have_ to find her and K'beth_.

_Why?_ asked Caliath. _What will happen if we do not? If Rosith and her rider do not meet us, then they will not say strange things and confuse us, and then we will not jump _between_ and end up here_.

Lystar was impressed. From a dragon, this was advanced thinking. _Yes, but Cal – that might work for the other Caliath and Lystar, over in the Weyr. They might recover and live happily ever after, or something – but what about _us_? We're here already! Will we get trapped here forever – or just vanish – or something worse?_ Lystar shivered. _I know I'm not a world-class intellect, Cal, but I'm sure it's a bad idea to mess with the past. After all, we know K'beth _did_ say all of those weird things, so he _must_ have met us. We _know_ it happened, so let's make sure it _does. She scrambled up, stamping her feet to keep them warm. _And it'll give us something to do. We can't sit here for three months! I'll freeze!_ As an afterthought, she added, _You can tell Rosith that, if you like. Not about the sitting here for three months. About me freezing_.

* * *

_You're sure this is the right way, Cal?_ Lystar asked anxiously for the third time.

_I am sure. Rosith is not at the Weyr. She is this way_. He paused, and added. _A long way. She does not know the name of the place where she is, but she can give me the visualization_.

'No, she can't,' said Lystar, dully. 'No flying _between_, remember?' She glanced up at the sky, which was rapidly darkening on her for the second time, and felt a lump rise in her throat. This wasn't _fair_, that all this should happen to her! _Cal, we're not going to make it today. Better start scouting for a good place to camp out_.

It was a dismal night. Lystar had neither food nor any way to make a fire. She and Caliath slept restlessly, in fits and starts, curled up together for the comfort it gave.

* * *

Lystar was already awake when cold, grey light illuminating the sullen sky told her it was finally dawn. A heavy dewfall had sodden everything in sight until even Caliath's hide seemed to reflect the dull colour of the threatening clouds filling the sky. Shivering, Lystar climbed to her feet, hopping up and down and rubbing her arms with chilled fingers, her breath crystallising in front of her. _Cal, wake up_, she said, thankful she was not having to force the words out throught chattering teeth. _Let's move before I _really_ freeze_.

Caliath stood up, grumbling a protest. _It's too cold_. He spread his wings and shook them vigorously to fling water droplets off the delicate membrane. _And uncomfortable. I am stiff_.

_Dragons are impervious to cold, you fraud_, said Lystar, lovingly. _Are you badly stiff? You'll loosen up as you fly_.

_Let's fly, then_. Caliath extended a foreleg, and Lystar scrambled up, trying to ignore the clammy touch of wet clothing as she moved. A blast of cold air hit her as Caliath leapt into the air and snapped his wings out smartly to catch the wind. She huddled down against Caliath's soft hide to be out of the worst of the wind and gritted her teeth.

* * *

Later, she remembered only parts of that flight. She was aware of Caliath's constant anxiety and to the best of her ability she broadcast reassurance and comfort. She didn't realise she had lost consciousness until she surfaced in response to Caliath's urgent demands. She thought Caliath asked frantically if he should land, should go to the Healer Hall, should find people, any people, but she stopped him. She had only one idea in her head; she had to find K'beth. Somewhere in a corner of her tired and frozen brain, she managed to cling onto that one thought and communicate it to Caliath.

The blue dragon flew on, increasing his speed to get to the person his rider needed to reach so urgently, frightened and half-frantic with anxiety but trusting Lystar to know what was best. It was past noon when he soared through a mountain pass into a deserted valley, broadcasting terrified thoughts to the elegant green waiting in a rough, natural cave in the mountainside, her eyes whirling with the fright she was picking up from him. Caliath flew straight at the cave, barely checking his speed until the last moment, when he crashed to a halt on the shallow ledge outside and lay down instantly so that his rider didn't have far to fall when she slid from his back to land in a heap on the rocky floor.

That brought Caliath's eyes on a level with the young man who had dashed out of the cave in response to Rosith's worry. Caliath gazed at him frantically with wildly whirling eyes. _Help my rider_, he begged.

* * *

**AN: Since this one was short, I hope to get chapter 6 out fairly soon, but I don't know when I'll manage it. Please R&R to encourage me (my friends call me a review junkie. I honestly don't care if they're bad/short/unhelpful as long as there's lots of them!). But thanks everyone for all the positive comment I've had so far.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The Pern world and the Dragons of Pern all belong to Anne McCaffrey. **

**AN: Here we are again… This chapter is mostly fairly easy to follow – there's just one section to watch out for, which I cover from one point of view, and then go back and show the SAME period from a different perspective.

* * *

**

Lystar was still cold when she woke, but it wasn't bad. She grumbled and rolled over, dragging the blanket closer around her. But it was all wrong, because her comfortable bed was solid and cold, and she could smell smoke in the air, clinging to the back of her throat.

_Wake up_, said Caliath. _K'beth and Rosith are back_.

'Huh?' asked Lystar vaguely, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She was lying in a cave – nothing unusual there, but the roof above her was smooth even where it was uneven, formed by the swirling of water in years past rather than rough hewn by men and dragons. Caliath's bulk loomed beside her, and she rolled away from him to get a wider view with her good eye, raising herself on one elbow. Immediately she caught sight of the cave entrance and closed her eyes again. The light outside was so dazzlingly bright that she could perceive the contrast even with her misted left eye.

Turning away from the entrance, she quickly scanned the rest of the cave. Tucked into a corner where it was shielded from the entrance by a rocky spur was the fire she had smelt. Lystar frowned. It looked to her as if it had been placed deliberately with concealment in mind. With that thought in her head, she scanned the rest of the meagre encampment. K'beth had a few supplies, and that was about it. Nothing that couldn't be moved or hidden in a hurry if necessary…

A gentle scraping thud sounded outside, and Lystar whirled round, scrambling to her feet in a hurry and shedding her blanket, shivering as the cold hit her. Rosith, glowing bright emerald in the brilliant sunlight, settled onto the ledge outside, casting a shadow across the cave mouth so that the glare was reduced and Lystar could see clearly as K'beth swung a long leg over Rosith's back ridge and jumped easily to the ground, landing with barely a sound. Lystar blushed, thinking of her own usual precipitous descent. And she'd been a dragonrider a full eight months longer than K'beth, too! It wasn't fair.

_Whose fault is it he didn't Impress earlier?_ whispered a treacherous inner voice, and Lystar blushed even harder, staring at the floor in confusion.

* * *

Rosith lowered her head and snaked her way in behind him as K'beth stepped into the cave, settling her slinky form along one wall. It was a tight fit for two people and two dragons, and K'beth hoped that Lystar would be well enough to leave soon. Although it would be nice to have the company… He sighed. He wasn't really lonely with Rosith around, but it would be nice to have someone to talk to while the dragon dozed her way through their inactive days concealed in the cave.

'Here, Lystar, I stepped into your weyr,' he said, and held out the bundle of things he'd collected. 'You sure need some warmer clothes… how are you feeling this morning?' She looked a lot better, he thought, critically inspecting the girl. But tired and strained, with sharp creases around her eyes.

What had he said to upset her? Lystar gasped, her eyes widening, and asked quickly, 'You've been home? What did you say – ?'

'Whoa.' K'beth raised his hands defensively. 'Calm down. I didn't see anyone to speak too. It's the middle of the night at Ista.' He grinned wryly. 'And Caliath did manage to impress on me the need for secrecy, although he wasn't terribly coherent.'

Lystar smiled, and he watched the worry smooth out of her face as she flicked a glance up at her dragon. He could see that she passed a comment up to Caliath, and whatever it was made the dragon rear up his head, although he restrained from spreading his wings, for which K'beth was grateful – it was confined enough already.

_I have told Caliath that we will remain here all day and perhaps tomorrow as well, so it will be better if he gets used to keeping himself small_, said Rosith, picking up his thoughts.

_Well done, sweetheart_, he said. _I don't know what I'd do without you_.

'It looks like morning here,' Lystar said, absently taking the bundle of her clothes from him as she peered outside. 'Where are we, then?' She looked down at what she held, and then met his eyes again, flashing a smile that lit her brown eyes. 'Oh, you brought my wherhide! Brilliant! Thanks, K'beth.'

He answered her smile, but was hit by a flash of sudden concern. 'That's all right. But look, Lystar, Rosith and I aren't here on a holiday, you know. Are you – look, if I heard you right, you and Caliath don't know where you are, and you are – well, you're correctly dressed now, but you don't have anything you need to look after yourself.' He gestured hopelessly, looking around. 'And this area's dangerous. Which is why I'm here. Which is why we're all stuck in this cave. So…'

'We're in the way.'

Catching a curious, dull note in Lystar's voice, K'beth quickly looked back at her face. She was standing closer to Caliath, a hand reaching behind her for the dragon in a totally instinctive gesture. Her face was blank, but for one unguarded instinct, K'beth had seen the flash of misery and fear in her eyes.

'No, not at all,' he said, instantly and – he hoped – convincingly. It was just not in him to add to the girl's misery. And what had happened to Lystar? She was always friendly and cheerful, making a big joke of her own clumsiness. On a bad day she was one of the most comforting people in the Weyr. But now…

'But you don't look too good,' he added. 'You should get back to the Weyr as soon as you can. You can't leave here until it's dark, Rosith and I already took enough risks today. But see if Caliath thinks it'd be all right to take you home then.'

Lystar turned her head and looked up at Caliath, her tangled hair brushing across her shoulders, and K'beth could almost feel their silent conversation.

_Caliath and his rider have a problem_, Rosith said, and he felt her mental shudder. _A big problem_.

_I can see that, love_, said K'beth, wryly. His head turned to his own dragon, he watched surreptitiously from the corner of his eye as Lystar turned and stepped towards Caliath across the uneven cave floor. She was a tall girl, and thin, but of late she'd begun to lose her adolescent gawkiness. K'beth, who'd known her for years – since an unforgettable day on the Hatching Ground, he thought, the corner of his mouth tweaking into a grin – could see that she was more graceful and co-ordinated than she'd been even a few months previously. Even since he'd last seen her – what, a few days back? – he thought there'd been a difference!

Lystar turned back towards him, and K'beth flicked his eyes back towards Rosith, grinning as his dragon said huffily, _I am not an excuse. If she catches you watching her then it serves you right_.

'K'beth.'

He turned round properly. Lystar was standing beside Caliath, her face shadowed by his bulk, but K'beth could see her hands twisting together nervously.

'And Rosith,' Lystar added. 'Look, I… Cal and I…' She stopped, swallowed, and then ploughed bravely on. 'We think we'd better tell you the truth.'

* * *

_We _can't_ go back to the Weyr, Cal_, Lystar said, nervously. _And what else can we do? He's bound to find out about us if he goes home regularly. It's sheer luck that I – she – was downstairs in a guest room instead of in our weyr when K'beth dropped in to pick up my clothes. And it's another miracle that she's not going to want those clothes for three months. I mean, she can't, can she? I didn't look for my wherhide again, because it's way too hot for summer if you're not flying _between. _But I know we're in the way here. And I don't – I really don't – I couldn't bear it if we put Rosith and K'beth in danger because they helped us. We ought to go off somewhere. There must be loads of places where a dragon and a rider can hide out. It's not for that long!_

_I will not take you off into the middle of nowhere_, said Caliath, firmly. _K'beth says that you have nothing which you need to survive and he is right. If you will not let me fly you _between _home then we will stay here._ He paused, and added, _I thought you wanted to be here. Why did you make me bring you when you were sick?_

_I did? I don't remember. I mean, I remember deciding to come here, but not insisting while I was ill. I don't know. But that's not the point now. I want to know if you think I should tell K'beth the truth about everything that's happened._

_You know what you have to do,_ Caliath said, a little impatiently. _Why ask me?_ Then his mental voice softened. _But I am here. You should not be afraid_.

_Never, with you here_, Lystar said, forcing a brave smile, and turned away, leaning against Caliath's broad shoulder for support.

'K'beth.'

He'd been talking to Rosith and now turned round to face her, the light playing across his long, humorous mouth and dark eyes, and glinting on the emerald hide of his dragon. 'And Rosith,' Lystar added, including the green dragon in her confession. 'Look, I… Cal and I…' She nearly stopped at that point. She couldn't have said what she was scared of, but she had a long ingrained habit of secrecy and fear – beginning all those years ago with her eye – and it was hard now to force herself to talk, to explain about her own stupidity and uselessness which she'd spent so long hiding. Not about her eye, of course, but about how bad a dragonrider she was, which was just as bad. But it was her terrible fear, her fear of losing Cal, which had got her into this situation, and if she backed out, afraid, at this point, it would only breed more fear and more secrets until it would build up and smother her and Cal and everyone she cared for…

Lystar took a deep and steadying breath and said, 'We think we'd better tell you the truth.'

* * *

K'beth was silent for a long time after he heard the full story, frowning. Lystar swallowed again and stamped down firmly on her instinct to fidget, as she did when she spoke to her father. Inside she cringed. K'beth knew the worst there was to know about her now – well, no, actually, he still didn't know about her eye, and the lies and shifts she'd been through to protect that secret. She coloured up now just thinking of her own irresponsibility. 'A danger to yourself and others', R'lan had said, and she was, a great clumsy, hazardous, cowardly fool…

_Stop it_, said Caliath. _You are only a fool when you think this way. It will be all right_.

_Will it?_ Lystar asked, nervously. _K'beth's going to despise me, so we'll have to go, and _then_ what will we do?_

_I will not take you anywhere_, said Caliath again. _When you are stupid like this you need to be looked after, not to camp out in bad weather_. A note of accusation crept into his voice. _You _trusted_ K'beth yesterday, when you made me bring you here_.

_I wasn't well!_ Lystar wailed. _It's not fair to keep flinging that at me! As for trusting him, that's _not_ the point_.

_Then what is?_ Caliath retorted.

* * *

Lystar was right about one thing. K'beth was horrified when he heard her story.

_How _could_ that happen?_ he asked Rosith, mentally kicking himself. _How could someone, _anyone_, in the Weyr be going through this much unhappiness, and no one even noticed or tried to do anything about it?_

Rosith was silent. K'beth didn't really expect an answer. He was frowning, planning how they could manage things now. He and Rosith had things on their mind, and the sensible thing to do was get Lystar and Caliath away as fast as possible – but when he looked at Lystar he could feel all of his common sense resolutions crumbling. A dragonrider unable to fly _between_, Lystar was crippled for the time being, and he was the only one who might be able to help her. K'beth squared his shoulders, mentally accepting the responsibility. Since he had no choice, he would cope. He would look after Lystar and Caliath for as long as they needed him and carry out his own task as well.

_One thing is certain – they really have nowhere else to go. They'll have to stay with us. You don't mind, love, do you?_

_No. I like Caliath_, said Rosith.

_Good_.

K'beth turned decisively to Lystar, then paused. She was looking up at Caliath, strain visible in every line of her face. 'You all right?' he asked.

'Uh-huh.' Lystar gave him a wan smile, jerking her thumb at the blue dragon. 'I'm just facing a rebellion in the ranks. Cal says he won't take me off somewhere so we can get out of your way.'

'What?' K'beth stared at the girl. 'You can't believe I'd let you do that? Off into the wilderness on your own?'

Lystar looked at him curiously, cocking her head on one side. 'Don't you want me to go?' she asked, and though she did a good job of disguising it, K'beth heard the quaver in her voice.

'Nonsense. You wouldn't last three days, let alone three months. You haven't any food, then there's threadfall, and that's not even the worst of it…' K'beth's voice trailed off and he went cold all over as he thought of the things that could happen to a girl alone, a dragonrider unable to use her dragon's abilities. 'You are staying here,' he said, firmly. 'Where I can see you're all right.'

* * *

_Cal_.

_Yes?_

_I remember_.

_What?_

_Why I had to get to K'beth_.

_Why?_

_When he spoke to me, back at the Weyr… I was so scared. I didn't understand a thing. But he sounded like _he _understood. Like he was in control. And he sounded like he _cared.

'Lystar.'

K'beth's voice brought her back to the present, and she looked up at him. He was frowning as if he was thinking hard. 'Since you're staying – I guess you'll be here for a while – you need to know something about what's going on here.'

Her stomach plummeted. 'I forgot… you and Rosith obviously aren't here for your entertainment. You said something about it being dangerous…'

K'beth nodded. 'That's why you have to know… d'you remember Z'kas, Lystar?'

She cocked her head, frowning. It was a useful gesture, she'd discovered, bringing her good eye round to get a wider arc of vision. 'Yes, of course. Threadscored, wasn't he? When we flew over Nerat.'

'Did you see him? And Lareth? After they were hurt, I mean.'

'No. I…' Lystar blushed. 'I was scored myself, that fall. I was too busy worrying about Cal to pay any attention to anything else, even…' She paused, and shrugged. 'I didn't really know him. He was just someone I'd see around.'

'What, even to you?' The tone in K'beth's voice was teasing, but Lystar jerked her head back as if she'd been hit. Once she'd known everyone and they'd known her, but these days nobody cared for her, and she didn't care for anybody at all, except for Caliath, of course, who was with her through the darkness…

'Anyway,' K'beth hurried on, and she knew he was wondering what he'd said wrong when he was only trying to be friendly. She blushed and ducked her head as he talked on. 'Z'kas wasn't threadscored. He _was_ injured during – actually just after – threadfall, which is why most people thought that. Actually, he was burnt, as if he and Lareth had come out of between in front of a flaming dragon.'

'Is that what happened?' Lystar asked, thankful for the chance to try and sound fairly normal.

K'beth shook his head. 'He wasn't injured by a dragon's fire, but by a flamethrower. At least, so R'lan assured me. Apparently they can tell.'

'The queen's wing, then? He fell, maybe?'

'Maybe, but none of the goldriders remembers it happening, and Reia backs them up. She says she's sure that Shareth would have known. And it gets worse, because R'lan and Reia say that both Aneth and Shareth _did_ report Lareth and Z'kas's injuries – but not until _after_ the fall had finished.'

'So what happened?'

'Well, we're not exactly sure… but we think we know the basics. Z'kas and Lareth were riding sweeps.' He gestured towards the cave mouth. 'In this area. Not actually here, because we're north of Nerat proper, but he was a conscientious man and we – well, R'lan, Reia and the Masterharper really, because I'm just transport – but they think he came a bit north of where he was technically supposed to be. Making wider sweeps, you know? Just to check, to be sure, really sure, that no thread had got through.'

Lystar nodded. She knew that feeling. She'd had nightmares sometimes that thread had crept through the gap in the wing which she and Caliath had failed to guard properly. After threadfall, after she'd tended Caliath's scores, she'd always had to hang around until the wing flying sweeps came in to reassure her that thread was not burrowing into Pern's fertile earth.

'After that, we don't really know. Maybe something caught his eye, or Lareth sensed something, and he came in low, maybe even landed. But he and Lareth were hit by a flamethrower, and they barely made it back to the Weyr before Lareth went _between_.'

'Are you telling me it was done _on purpose_? Someone _deliberately_ killed a dragonrider?' Lystar's voice came out high and loud.

K'beth looked as queasy as she felt. 'That's how it looks,' he admitted. 'That's why I said it was dangerous.'

'_Who_?'

'Bandits. They think. Harpers have been making enquiries, and there have been a number of thefts from the Holds closest to here. Not many people pass through these mountains, but they did find one trader train that was ransacked in the area… not that much, but, if you look at it with the idea in your mind, then if just one group of people carried out all these robberies without being caught – without even being noticed! – they've been doing pretty well for themselves.'

'How did no one notice?'

K'beth's lip curled up cynically. 'The people who were robbed noticed! In a small Hold, just one bag of grain can mean the difference between starvation and survival. But none of the individual thefts were that big, so the Lords Holder never bothered to do anything about it. Killing a dragonrider's different. R'lan has lots of help pledged to clear them out – if we can find them.'

'Why didn't the Weyrs know? We regularly fly over every inch of ground! We _should_ have known if there were people living here, bandits or not. We should have been protecting them!' She frowned. 'You said we were beyond Nerat's borders, didn't you, so this isn't our land to protect. Which Weyr does look after this bit? Benden?'

'That's what R'lan thought until he spoke to them. See, Lystar, here in the mountains we're north of Nerat, south of Benden, east of Keroon.' He knelt down and leaned forwards, a lock of hair falling across his eyes, and picked up a half-burnt stick from the fire. Using the blackened and burnt end, he quickly sketched a diagram of Pern's northern continent on the cave floor. Lystar sat down beside him as he indicated the major Holds and the Weyrs, peering at his handiwork, black lines scrawled across the rock like spidery trails.

'Sorry, this is a mess,' K'beth said, as if he'd read her mind, and Lystar blushed, leaning forward so that her hair swung across her face. 'I can't draw at all,' K'beth continued, 'but you get the point. There's three different Weyrs surrounding this place. Benden thought that this land belonged with Keroon and Igen Weyr.'

Lystar forgot her embarrassment, knowing with a dreadful certainty what was coming. 'And Igen thought it was us. So no one at all ever flew over here.'

K'beth nodded grimly. 'Not until one decent rider took his sweep out in a wider circle than was strictly necessary.'

Lystar swallowed. She could bring Z'kas to mind without too much effort – an older man, stern and reliable. As K'beth had said – decent.

Then a thought struck her. 'K'beth – you said they never stole anything big so far. Where the shardin' hell did they get flamethrowers?'

K'beth shrugged helplessly.

* * *

_A dragonrider killed,_ said Rosith, softly. _That is bad_.

K'beth threw a wry glance up at her. His dragon had always been a mistress of understatement. _Thanks, sweetheart. That's what you said when I told you the first time_.

_I forgot_, said Rosith, in no way abashed, then added, _Caliath's rider is upset_.

K'beth's head snapped round to look back at Lystar, sitting beside him. The girl's head was bent, her tangled hair screening her eyes, but he could see her shoulders shaking, almost soundlessly. For a second K'beth stared at her in dismay, then gingerly put an arm around Lystar's shoulders.

The girl gave a convulsive sob and buried her head in his shoulder. K'beth could feel her tears soaking wetly through the fabric to reach his skin and knew that Caliath was looming over him, frantic with worry. Cautiously he brought up his other hand and patted her back awkwardly. 'It's all right,' he said, soothingly, as if he was talking to a frightened animal. 'Don't worry, Lystar. It's all right.'

* * *

**AN: I'm actually beginning to be kinda fed up at the way Lystar is injured / unwell / depressed in _every single_ chapter so far. Hold your breath for chapter 7 (er... or at least chapter 8...) when she might actually get to display some strengths. Don't tell me it shouldn't have taken that long! Well, ok, tell me that if you want. Tell me anything that comes to mind, 'cos I know this is far from perfect and I could do with the help.**

**Oh, yes, and you'll notice that it's now become necessary to locate this story, so I've chosen a home Weyr for Lystar and Caliath – Ista. I chose it because I don't really know that much about it so I have a free rein for imagination, but if anyone does spot something I've written which doesn't fit with Ista, please let me know and I'll sort it out.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Diclaimer: The dragonriders of Pern and everything associated with the world of Pern is the property of Anne McCaffrey.**

**AN: Again, this is a direct follow on from the previous chapter, so I'm including the last paragraph of chapter 6 to help with continuity:

* * *

**

The girl gave a convulsive sob and buried her head in his shoulder. K'beth could feel her tears soaking wetly through the fabric to reach his skin and knew that Caliath was looming over him, frantic with worry. Cautiously he brought up his other hand and patted her back awkwardly. 'It's all right,' he said, soothingly, as if he was talking to a frightened animal. 'Don't worry, Lystar. It's all right.'

'Sorry.' Lystar sat up, wiping a filthy sleeve across her wet eyes. 'I don't… I didn't… it's just… everything…' Fresh tears spurted to her eyes, and K'beth's arm around her squeezed comfortingly.

'It's all right,' he said again, gently, and Lystar managed a shaky smile.

'Yes.' She looked up to where Caliath's head hovered over her, his eyes whirling yellow, and repeated K'beth's words to him. 'It's all right, silly.' She reached up to scratch his eyebrow ridge, and K'beth gently released her as she scrambled to her feet with a little half-sobbing laugh. 'You should be used to it, Cal.'

She felt K'beth shift behind her, and turned her head to look down at him, one arm still draped around Caliath's neck. He looked back at her intently, almost impersonally, and Lystar felt uncomfortable. 'What?'

'I'm wondering…' K'beth frowned. 'You're _not_ normally like this, Lystar.'

'Yes, I am,' she said, glumly. Feeling suddenly tired, she leant back against Caliath. 'All the time. I have been for ages.'

'Not from my point of view. How long is ages? Might it be about three months?'

Lystar stared at him. 'Yes. It might be. Three months ago I stopped being a proper, thread-flying dragonrider, and that was when Cal and I were injured and I got frightened of… of Cal going _between_…' She shook herself, and said more briskly. 'So yes, that might be when I started being so miserable. Why?'

'I _did_ wonder if it might be a consequence of living across yourself,' said K'beth, slowly. 'I've never known anyone who did it, but don't they say it makes people irritable and bad-tempered? Well, maybe some people get miserable and weepy instead.'

Lystar's eyes widened. Trying to damp down the hope building in her stomach, she said, 'But I've only just begun. It's been what, three days? It doesn't account for how I've been feeling for months…'

She trailed off, as K'beth shook his head, grinning at her. 'No, think about it. Back home, there's a threadscored girl who is feeling upset because R'lan's just told her she's not to fly thread any more. You've actually been living across yourself for three months already. You have to keep track of it.'

'That's what –' Lystar broke off.

'What?'

'Oh, nothing,' Lystar said, hurriedly. She hadn't told K'beth about their strange conversation in the Weyr the day she'd left because she had a strange feeling that the messages he gave her had to originate with him – otherwise she'd simply be passing them on, and so would he, and no one would ever invent them, which would be very peculiar indeed… But she had no time to worry about it now. Her mind was full of K'beth's idea. 'You mean this is just like… well, like an illness. If I just put up with it, in the end, it'll go away? It's not really _me_?'

* * *

K'beth felt dreadful. It had only been an idea, but how could he say so now, when Lystar clearly took so much comfort from it? 'Sure,' he said, with as much certainty as he could muster. 'Like you grew out of the clumsiness. It doesn't affect who you really are.'

'What?'

'What?' K'beth looked up at Lystar, then realized that she looked genuinely puzzled. 'The clumsiness. I was really surprised by how much your coordination has improved, but that's because of those missing months. I guess it doesn't seem as startling to you.'

'What?' Lystar said again. 'I'm still really cack-handed…'

K'beth frowned. 'No, look at Caliath.' Both of them turned their heads to look at the blue dragon, who gazed back at them through eyes which had returned to their usual blue. 'When he was growing, d'you remember everyone commented on how bony Caliath was, even though he ate a lot?'

'Of course.'

'And he was a bit clumsy with it, right, as if his frame was a bit bigger than he expected it to be, and he wasn't quite sure where bits of him were?'

'Yes,' Lystar smiled up at her dragon, obviously sharing an amusing memory.

'But now he's filled out and he's well-proportioned. And he's lost all that awkwardness of movement, and I bet he can fly through a space an inch wider than his wingspan these days.'

'Of course he can!' Lystar fired up in defence of her dragon's abilities.

'Well, there you go,' said K'beth, triumphantly. 'You're just the same. You just don't look at yourself. You just _think_ you're clumsy. It's all in your mind, like being upset all the time – and thinking you're useless.'

He half-expected Lystar to protest that she _was_ useless, but she merely said quietly, exultantly 'And being afraid all the time…'

Startled by her tone, K'beth fixed his eyes on her face. Standing above him, one arm around Caliath's neck, Lystar was looking into the distance, seemingly unaware of his gaze. She blazed with an almost physical light of hope and joy that transformed her plain, thin face so that K'beth felt embarrassed to witness the intensity of her emotion, but, captivated by her expression, he could not turn away.

It was then that K'beth knew that if he could do anything, anything at all, to bring that look to Lystar's face forever then he would do it, no matter what the cost.

* * *

Half a world away, Gilda picked up her accounts again as Lystar settled back to sleep, her face flushed and tear-stained. Gilda tutted reprovingly, wishing she'd been able to stop R'lan upsetting the child. As much as the fierce old headwoman was fond of anyone, she was fond of her daughter and her daughter's daughter. 

She wiped the numbweed salve from her hands and bent back to her work, checking off the items on the parchment with a brisk hand. Gilda knew exactly what stores and supplies the Weyr had and checked through the inventory quickly. Seventy barrels of dried fish had come in for the winter – three remained, but she would be able to dispose of most of that, Gilda thought, since with spring coming round the sea hold would have fresh fish to spare to the Weyr; eight hundred sacks of firestone stored carefully away – used up by now, of course, she _wished_ Bessa would keep these records up to date; five flamethrowers serviced and overhauled by the Mastersmith –

Gilda stopped, her thin silver brows coming together. _Five_ flamethrowers? She was sure she'd only seen…

Abruptly, the old lady climbed to her feet, her back ramrod straight, and went out into the corridor, the inventory still in her hand. 'Sit with Lystar, Hanna,' she snapped at the first woman she came across in the lower caverns. Hanna, exchanging glances with the friends she'd been working with, rolled up her mending and climbed to her feet. They all knew that when the headwoman sounded that bad-tempered it was a good idea to jump to it and not argue – unless you wanted to feel the rough side of Gilda's sharp tongue.

Gilda marched on through the Weyr, spreading a black cloud across everyone she met. Weyrlings dodged aside, not wishing to incur the headwoman's wrath. The junior Weyrwoman, Bessa, even went so far as to flee bodily, knowing that Gilda would never hesitate to vent her annoyance on her. Ignoring all of it, the tiny woman stalked through towards the store rooms.

When she reappeared, she was grimmer than ever. Gesturing away the women who gingerly approached her with some query, she marched straight across the bowl and climbed the ramp which led to the Weyrleader's weyr as fast as her stiff joints would allow.

* * *

By the tenth day, the cave was full of frustrated dragon as Caliath and Rosith growled and snapped, made irritable by their inability to get out and stretch their wings. Even a dragon's natural indolence had given way to their forced inactivity, and both would have welcomed a chance to undertake strenuous physical exercise. 

There've been times when I'd've wished for her to be this energetic, thought K'beth wryly as he soothed Rosith for the thousandth time. _Calm down, love. It won't be forever, you know_.

_I do not want to wait!_ snarled the green. _I want the wind under my wings, and if I must not fly then I want to sleep in the sun, not in this dark and dirty cave!_

Frantically broadcasting calming thoughts, K'beth caught Lystar's eye and pulled a face. It was night, and the small fire only provided a very faint illumination to let him see her, but he thought that she winked back at him as she petted Caliath. By contrast with the dragons, Lystar had seemed to grow calmer and more confident over the time they'd spent together, far away from her failures and miseries in the Weyr.

_Why are we still here, anyway?_ demanded Rosith. _We should have moved days ago. Where is the harper?_

K'beth frowned, the vague worry he'd been feeling for days becoming concrete and real. _I don't know. I hope nothing's happened to him… you're right, he should have been here days ago_.

'Who's the harper?' asked Lystar.

'What?' K'beth was surprised. 'How d'you know…'

Lystar shrugged, smiled and jerked a thumb at Caliath. 'Rosith mentioned him to Cal, I think. But I didn't get an explanation.'

'His name's Jarrin,' said K'beth, biting his lip, 'and I don't know what's happened to him… We were working together, he and I. He's one of the Masterharper's best draughtsmen, and an actor too. He inflitrated the ranks of these bandits to collect evidence about them. I'm just his contact and message boy – I pick up all the news he has, plus pictures he draws of the bandits, and take the whole lot back to the Weyr, then R'lan and Reia pass it on to the Masterharper or the Lord Holders, or whoever has to know. But Jarrin's not reported in for too long…' He fidgeted. It went against the grain with him to stay where he was, confined in this tiny cave while out there a man he'd come to like and respect might be in danger…

He stopped that thought where it was, keeping a tight rein on his emotions. If _he_ was this restless and frustrated, no wonder Rosith wouldn't calm down. It would probably just put Jarrin in more danger if dragonriders were spotted in the area, he reminded himself.

'But what's he got to do with Rosith being allowed to stretch her wings?' Lystar asked, and K'beth suddenly realised why Rosith had mentioned the harper to Caliath.

'Oh, because we shift camp frequently to help avoid discovery,' he explained. 'But we can't move if the harper's not here, because he won't know where to find us next time. Basically, he comes at night and we fly to a new spot with him under the cover of darkness and hear everything he's got to report, then he goes back before he's missed. Generally we go home to pass on his message that same day, and come back the next night. But…'

'But what?' asked Lystar, quietly.

K'beth didn't intend to burden her with his fears – she had enough problems to cope with – but instead of turning her off with a light answer he found himself saying, 'I'm really worried about him. I haven't seen him since a couple of days before you arrived, and usually he manages to contact me every few days – just to let me know everything's going all right, even if he's not got anything of importance to say. I'm afraid he's been found out…' He saw Lystar wince, and pressed his lips together so hard that the blood drained out of them.

Lystar looked as if she was going to say something else and opened her mouth when Rosith interrupted and he swung round towards his dragon, who looked suddenly sleeker and happier. _Shareth says we must come to the Weyr to be told what they've discovered_, she announced.

_Now?_

_Yes, at once_, said Rosith. _They have found something_.

K'beth looked back round at Lystar. 'Good thing it's dark,' he said. 'I have to go home and hear what the Weyrleaders have found. I can tell them about Jarrin at the same time.'

Rosith had already begun to slide her way out of the cave, delighted to be given a chance to go out. Caliath grumbled deep in his throat, and Lystar turned to him, soothing him as K'beth followed his dragon out.

He paused in the doorway, and turned back. Lystar's figure was almost lost in the darkness of the cave, and Caliath's shadowy mass had vanished against the uneven wall so that the girl looked alone, and very small. 'Will you be all right while I'm gone?' he asked in a rush.

'I'll be fine. Cal's here.' He couldn't see Lystar's face, but she sounded offended and he jerked his shoulders unhappily.

Then he managed to make himself laugh. 'Sure. Don't do anything stupid, then. Caliath, I depend on you.' He turned away and placed one foot on Rosith's bended knee to spring up. Let Lystar think that he was teasing. He couldn't risk hurting her any further.

Then they were in the air, the wind rushing through his hair as Rosith's rapid, eager wingbeats carried them away.

* * *

It was quiet after K'beth left. The fire crackled softly, glowing a gentle red – not bright enough to illuminate everything, but bright enough to destroy Lystar's night vision and leave her in a world of velvet-soft darkness. Outside, Lystar could hear the wind moaning softly as it blew across the cave entrance. She shuddered – and not from the cold draughts that gusted through the cave. It was a noise she'd barely noticed in the bright light of day – she'd not even remarked on it at night while K'beth and Rosith were around – but its eeriness made the hairs on her spine rise up. 

'Cal,' she said quietly, and her single word came out reluctantly, as if the quiet was reluctant to be broken. Nervously, she felt behind her for her dragon's rough, warm hide and sat down leaning against him, wrapping her blanket around her.

_I'm here_, Caliath said patiently. _Don't be scared_.

_I'm _not_ scared!_ she retorted indignantly, and to prove it she shifted position loudly, settling down into the most comfortable place she could find. _I'm just… cautious_.

_Good_, said Caliath, imperturbably.

Silence fell again, thick and heavy. Staring blindly into the night, Lystar imagined masked figures creeping through the night, bandits spotting the faint light of her fire and coming to investigate with their long, sharp knives glinting…

Caliath shifted behind her and she nearly screamed. Knowing that Caliath knew how close she'd come to panicking she took refuge in anger. _Why can't you keep still?_ she snapped.

_Why can't I go flying?_ the dragon retorted. _Rosith has. And I am bigger and older than Rosith_.

Diverted, Lystar frowned. _What's that got to do with anything?_ she demanded.

_I should get to go flying_, said Caliath, stubbornly. _If I go now, while it is dark, then there is no danger_.

_No!_ said Lystar, instantly. The thought of staying here, all by herself, sent shivers down her spine.

Caliath shifted again, and she felt his restrained energy. But what he said was, _If you want me to stay with you then I will not leave you_.

Lystar swallowed. The truth was, she would much rather that Caliath did not leave. But what real danger was there to her? Making Caliath stay cramped up in the cave for another day would be selfish to the point of cruelty.

_Come with me_, Caliath offered. _Then I will get to fly and you will not be alone_.

Lystar shook her head regretfully. _Thanks, Cal, but how would we ever find this place again in the dark? I'll have to stay so that you can get back_. She sighed. _Go on. You're right. You should fly now, while you have the chance_. She stood up and crossed to the other side of the cave so that Caliath could get out past her.

_Fly high_, she said nervously. _Keep away from the ground, whatever you see_. She couldn't help thinking of the dragon who had come into range of a flame thrower in this area. _And, Cal, don't be too long…_

_Call if you need me. I will come straight back_, Caliath promised. Then he was clear of the cave and sprang away into the cool night air. Lystar could feel his fierce joy and the freedom of the skies as the wind wrapped itself around him, and remembered for a moment that bright morning before they had been trapped in their own past.

Then Caliath swept away, and she was alone.

The air pressed down on her and the darkness stole her breath away so that she had to concentrate to get air into her lungs. Beside her the dim fire gave little heat, and she huddled into her blanket. With a part of her mind she knew that it was less than an hour since Caliath had left, knew that she could not expect him back so soon, but another part of her told her that she had been waiting for an eternity. There would never be an end to the night. K'beth and Rosith would never return. And Caliath – Caliath! He was gone too, willingly or unwillingly she did not know, he had left her and she was alone in the night…

It was then she heard the noise. It was faint, far off, but Lystar's hearing had sharpened since she'd injured her eye and she could hear the sound persistently over the wind's soft crying. Her eyes wide with fear, she listened, trying to block out all the other noises of the night, until she was sure. The noise that she could hear was footsteps, insistent, and always growing louder – moving towards her.

Lystar stood up, swallowing painfully with her dry throat. Now awake and alert, she could feel Caliath's presence again in the corner of her mind. _Get back here, Cal_, she begged, clenching her hands into fists so that her nails left dents in the palm of her hands. Her back was sticky with sweat, and the cold wind made her clammy and cold. She pressed herself against the wall of the cave.

_I am coming!_ Caliath screamed frantically into her mind, and she had a sense of the blue dragon labouring through the sky with frantic wingbeats. But he was not going to reach her in time, she knew. The footsteps belonged to no random searcher. She could hear them now on the stone of the mountainside, climbing steadily towards her. Lystar shrank back against the stone, her belly twisting and nausea rising in her throat. The bandits had found them…

Then something inside her rebelled. Lystar swallowed down the sickness and stood up straight, sticking out her chin, and twisting her head to get the best vision of the cave entrance. Yes, she was scared. But K'beth had said that the fear was not a part of who she truly was. If she was going to die, it was shardin' well not going to be a coward's death!

And maybe she would not have to die. Lystar took three quick, silent steps and crouched down behind the rocky spur which shielded the fire, scrabbling around with tiny, quiet movements of her right hand for a stone. She knew that she was completely invisible from the cave mouth. At least she would have the element of surprise…

Then, faintly outlined in the entrance to the cave, Lystar could make out the silhouette of a man.

* * *

**AN: Gasp! Shock! Horror! If you don't like suspense, hope I get chapter 8 out soon… and review to encourage me!**

**Also, hands up if you think K'beth is sweet (t-d puts both hands up). But sometimes I worry that he is sweet at the expense of realism and being a believable character, so please give me your opinions on this.**

**Also I need some help, please – Pern has two moons, am I remembering right? Is anything known about their movements, or can I just make it up? Specifically, does anyone know how long it would be between the moons being in any two positions and them coinciding again in those same positions?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Pern and the dragons of Pern belong to Anne McCaffrey**

**AN: cackles wickedly I have an impulse to go write about K'beth and Rosith and not tell you what happened to Lystar yet… but no. I am not THAT cruel. Again, watch for the timings of different sections.**

**Big thanks to everyone who gave me what they knew about the moons, especially PernDragonrider – thank you very much. I didn't find what I wanted to know, but that was actually what I wanted to find, since I now feel justified in making it up to suit myself.**

**Oh yes, and kudos to you, PSTurner, for guessing the outcome of this suspenseful moment:

* * *

**

Lystar took three quick, silent steps and crouched down behind the rocky spur which shielded the fire, scrabbling around with tiny, quiet movements of her right hand for a stone. She knew that she was completely invisible from the cave mouth. At least she would have the element of surprise…

Then, faintly outlined in the entrance to the cave, Lystar could make out the silhouette of a man.

The world seemed to pause. For an instant everything hung, still and silent, Lystar's vision a nothing but blackness and that ominous figure outlined with faint starlight.

And then it flowed on. The man took a couple of halting steps into the cave. Contrasting with his assured step as he passed across the valley, he seemed hesitant and uncertain. Lystar clutched her stone harder, the roughness of it imprinting into her hand, but held back from attacking in order to draw things out and give Caliath time to arrive.

And in a light, pleasant, husky voice, the man said, 'K'beth?'

And Lystar suddenly realised. She let out a long breath and dropped the stone, which clattered to the floor.

The man snapped his head round towards her. 'Who's there?' he asked, sharply.

'Me,' she said, as she stood up. 'I'm Lystar, Caliath's rider of Ista. And you must be the harper…'

'That's right. I'm Jarrin,' he said, but did not relax. 'Excuse me, my lady, but where is K'beth? And why are you…' He trailed off.

'I'm here by accident,' said Lystar, gloomily, and sighed. 'And don't call me 'my lady'. K'beth had to –'

Then Caliath crashed into the cave. Lystar's speech was lost in the furious roaring and battering as Caliath beat his wings furiously against the walls and roof of the cave. He lunged forwards, teeth and claws outstretched, eyes blazing red, and leapt for Jarrin.

* * *

Rosith circled slowly over the Weyr, coasting down through the evening sunlight to alight gently on the ledge outside the Weyrleaders' quarters.

_Thanks, love_. K'beth jumped down as Aneth bugled gently in acknowledgement of their arrival, and the rough ridges of the ledge jarred his legs slightly. _You go and bask in this sunshine. Hunt if you want, but don't stuff yourself. I'd like to get back tonight_.

_Aneth says that R'lan and Reia are very excited and upset_, Rosith reported, somewhat irrelevantly, then spread her wings as he stood back. _I will go and sit with Sirenth and Majeth_.

_No gossiping about our mission!_ K'beth called after her, with some misgiving, as the slinky green winged her way upwards to where another green and a brown were sitting. Rosith dipped in her flight in acknowledgement of his words, but did not reply.

K'beth bit his lip, then shrugged and turned and stepped into the weyr.

'Good evening, Shareth, Aneth,' he said, bowing politely to the dragons as he passed them and went through into the living quarters.

Three people were there. Reia, always calm, sat at the table, her immaculate appearance and expressionless face giving nothing away. Gilda sat opposite, the old headwoman's face even more sour than usual. R'lan wasn't seated at all, crossing and recrossing the cave with huge, angry strides of his long legs. 'It's not good enough,' he snapped, as K'beth came in. 'One rider has died already, and now we discover – ah, K'beth.'

'Sir,' said K'beth, briefly. 'My duty, Reia, Gilda. What's wrong? Rosith said you had news.' In R'lan's current mood he didn't think it was the time to waste words on courtesies. And besides, he wanted to hear their news quickly and get back to Lystar. It was weird the way he kept thinking something would have happened to her the minute he left her alone.

'Yes,' said R'lan, grimly. 'You remember the puzzle of how a group of bandits in the middle of nowhere came to have flamethrowers?'

'Of course. You've solved it?'

'Not exactly. But Gilda has found something relevant…' R'lan gestured for the Headwoman to speak.

'We're missing two flamethrowers here in the Weyr,' Gilda said, bluntly.

'What?' K'beth stared at her.

'You heard me,' said Gilda, tartly. 'My records show two flamethrowers which the Weyr doesn't have anymore.'

K'beth looked back round at R'lan. 'And you think they're the ones these bandits have got?'

R'lan shrugged helplessly. 'I don't know. I hope not… But K'beth, you know we've scoured every Hold in the area and every other potential source that we could think of as the origin of those flamethrowers. And we found nothing. Nothing at all. And now… we've found traces of some missing flamethrowers. It _does_ look like it should match up…'

K'beth nodded slowly, frowning. 'How can flamethrowers go missing from the Weyr?'

No one answered, but K'beth could almost feel the drop in temperature. He looked up quickly. R'lan, Reia and Gilda were staring at the floor with identical grim expressions.

'It's possible that a visitor to the Lower Caverns might have taken them.' Gilda said, slowly. 'We are trying to discover if anyone might have had access to those stores. But I have to say, there's no reason why a visitor would have been able to find flamethrowers even if they did get into the stores.'

There was a long pause of gaping silence.

Reia broke it. She hadn't spoken until then, and when she did K'beth could hear the sadness in her quiet voice. 'What we're trying to tell you, K'beth, is that it's extremely likely that one of us here in the Weyr – a dragonrider, or someone from the Lower Caverns – is the person who took those flamethrowers out of the Weyr. Not necessarily with intent to harm. But certainly not legally either, or someone – one of us three – would have known about it.'

K'beth was stunned for a minute, then the horror of the situation came creeping over him slowly. 'Shards. There's no way of getting round it, is there? Someone we know, someone who's Ista weyrfolk is – well, at best a thief. Certainly a traitor to the Weyr…'

Three sombre faces nodded grimly.

In the corner of his eye, K'beth thought he saw a twitch of movement. 'Who's there?' he asked sharply, turning his head to where the thick, heavy curtain that shrouded the entrance to the weyr was fluttering slightly.

Startled by the greenrider's sudden switch of focus, everyone was still for a moment. Then R'lan, already on his feet, leapt forwards and wrenched aside the curtain.

There was no one visible, only the narrow staircase that led away down to the bowl of the Weyr and the Lower Caverns.

'Just the wind,' said R'lan. He sounded unconvinced. K'beth nodded silently. He was trying to persuade himself that he had not heard a scuffling of light feet retreating down the stairs.

* * *

_Cal! No!_ Lystar flung herself forwards to get in between Jarrin and the raging dragon. 'He's a friend, Cal!' she yelled, over the echoing roars filling the cave and the frantic threshing wingbeats. 'I was wrong!'

Caliath had pulled up his furious progress to avoid hurting Lystar, and he settled back on his haunches. But his eyes were still gleaming red in the darkness, and his wings remained spread as far as the cave would allow. _No one is allowed to hurt you!_

Jarrin was smooth, she had to give him that. He stepped forwards, bowing. 'I am Jarrin, Journeyman Harper. It is an honour to meet you, Caliath.'

_See?_ said Lystar, soothingly. _He didn't mean to frighten me. That was my fault. Sorry, Cal_. She scratched his eyebrow ridges comfortingly, and his eyes gently slowed, fading back to their normal colour.

_All right_, grumbled the dragon. _You've made me look silly now_.

Lystar half-grinned. _Dragons never look silly. It's just a thing that doesn't happen. _I _look silly all the time, but you remain awe-inspiring, elegant and… and… well, wonderful, anyway_.

'My lady,' said Jarrin, and she realised suddenly that he'd been trying to attract her attention for a couple of minutes. She turned round, blushing furiously. 'Sorry! What was that? And _don't_ call me 'lady'.'

'All right then, Lystar,' said Jarrin, and she could hear the smile in his voice. 'Before Caliath arrived you were about to tell me where K'beth is?'

Why is he so much more friendly now? Lystar wondered, and then realised. Caliath. Now he knows I'm certainly a dragonrider, so he can be sure I'm a friend. 'Oh, K'beth got called back to the Weyr. They'd found something. And he was going to tell them that he hadn't heard from you in a while, I think…'

'He'll be back, though?'

'Oh, yes, of course.' Lystar paused. 'If you don't mind me asking – everything is all right your end? I mean, I know you missed some of your usual meetings with K'beth…'

'Yes, and no…' said Jarrin, slowly. 'I mean – yes, things are as right as they'll ever be.' He paused, looking away, and Lystar had a sudden vivid glimpse of what it must be to live a lie, knowing that you are working all the time to cause the deaths of the people living around you. The bile rose in her throat as Jarrin continued, 'But things are tightening up a bit. I think they guess that someone is passing information. That's why I haven't been able to get away before.' He paused, shifting restlessly. 'How long did you say K'beth would be?'

Lystar had to swallow hard before she could answer, 'I didn't, because I don't know. He's been gone a couple of hours already, I guess, but…'

'It's just that we should move. I don't blame him – or you – but Caliath was making a shardin' lot of noise a minute ago, and we _really_ don't want to attract attention.'

Lystar swallowed again, this time in fear, and bit her lip. It was all her fault again! She'd been stupid not to let Caliath know the minute she realised who Jarrin was, and now the real bandits were probably creeping towards the cave. With flamethrowers, and there was Cal… Lystar's knees shook, and she stiffened them with an effort. She knew that the muscles in her face were all rigid and she must look awful, but the darkness wouldn't give her away to the harper.

'K'beth would be shifting camp – with you, I guess…' Jarrin trailed off, inviting her to tell him her plans, but Lystar knew that if she opened her mouth her quavering voice would betray her. 'Anyway, he would be shifting camp,' the harper continued, 'since I'm here, which would put us out of immediate danger. But since he's not here…'

I wish he was! Lystar thought, desperately. K'beth would know what to do… _Cal, help me. Don't let them hurt you. Please don't_.

_They can try_, growled Caliath, baring his teeth, white flashes in the dark cave.

_That's no use!_ Lystar wailed. She knew that she should do something, but she couldn't think what. And even if there was something obvious, she knew with a dreadful certainty that she was too panicked and too useless to act sensibly.

* * *

_Halenth has brought the Masterharper_, Rosith remarked. K'beth saw both the Weyrleaders' heads turn as their respective dragons relayed this news. R'lan straightened up, dropping the curtain, and returned to the centre of the room. K'beth himself stepped away from the entrance and positioned himself unobtrusively against a wall.

'Master Dannen is here,' Reia told Gilda, quietly.

The Headwoman grunted, unimpressed. 'Well, so he should be.'

'And good evening to you too, Gilda,' said a full, rich voice, and K'beth jumped. He hadn't heard the Masterharper arrive. Dannen ducked under the archway and stepped fully into the room, the glow light revealing a round moony face that was perfect camouflage for the keen brain behind it.

The Masterharper bowed. 'Greetings, R'lan, Reia. And K'beth, I see. What is the latest crisis?' He looked so comically dismayed that K'beth even managed a small smile.

He sobered up quickly as R'lan again repeated Gilda's findings. Dannen gazed vacantly into space, drumming his fingers on his thigh as he listened. For a minute, K'beth wondered if he'd even heard, then the Masterharper asked, 'For how long have these flamethrowers been missing?'

Gilda shrugged, her mouth pursing up. 'I check over the accounts twice a year. Within that time.'

'No one keeps track of things more frequently than that?'

'It's the Weyrwoman's duties,' Gilda said. 'I'm responsible for food and healing supplies, not fighting.'

Dannen fixed his vacant gaze on Reia.

'I should have checked,' the elegant Weyrwoman admitted. 'It's just Bessa's been getting fidgety over the last couple of years. She says she feels I'm always looking over her shoulder as if I don't trust her.'

Gilda snorted. 'I wonder why.'

'That's not fair, Gilda,' Reia chided gently. 'I'm sure she tries her best. It's not her fault she doesn't have your retentive memory.'

'Reia,' snapped the Headwoman, 'the only reason you think Bessa tries is because you have a hardworking disposition yourself and you can't understand the kind of person who is simply bone idle and thinks of nothing but her hairstyle and bronzeriders.'

'Fortunately,' R'lan muttered. Dannen belied his vacant expression by shooting R'lan a sharp look, but K'beth didn't think that either of the two women had heard the Weyrleader's comment.

'But be that as it may,' said Reia, keeping her cool, 'Bessa's not the most junior Weyrwoman any more, and I did feel it was only fair to give her more of a free rein.'

'With the result that she's tangled up the accounts for the last six months by carelessness and neglect – and we've lost two flamethrowers without noticing until now.'

Dannen nodded placidly and changed the subject. 'And what's the news from Jarrin, K'beth?'

K'beth's stomach lurched. He'd managed to forget his own bad news in the shock of what he'd heard. 'I don't know,' he said anxiously. 'I was going to tell you, but it went clean out of my head. I haven't heard from Jarrin since I last spoke to you. I'm really worried…'

'What?' R'lan asked sharply. 'You should have told us earlier. It's been what – ten days?'

'Twelve.' Dannen's voice was as placid and vague as ever, but it had a grim undertone. 'And you've had no sort of a message.'

K'beth shook his head. 'No. Nothing.'

'That's bad,' said R'lan. He began to pace again, five steps along the length of the chamber and five back the other way. 'I feel so helpless, shard it! I should be doing something!'

'R'lan,' said Reia.

The tall Weyrleader stopped, drawing in a steadying breath. 'All right. Thanks, love.' Then he swore. 'Which reminds me! Thread in the morning. At the ninth hour.'

'We're prepared,' said his weyrmate, calmly.

'I know, love, but I like to check…' R'lan looked round. 'Does anyone have any other thoughts on this, or news?'

K'beth considered mentioning Lystar, but as R'lan looked round at him he shook his head. She'd trusted him not to give her away. 'I need some supplies, then I should get back,' was all he said.

R'lan frowned. 'Why don't you stay? You and Rosith could fly with us in the morning before heading out again.'

'I'd like to,' said K'beth with genuine regret. He needed the excitement and challenge of a threadfall after nearly a month of kicking his heels in mountain caves. 'But I can't. I have to get back to – uh, in case Jarrin manages to make contact.' Already itching at the back of his mind was the thought of Lystar, whom he'd left alone in the dark for far too long…

* * *

Lystar was wrong when she thought that the dark would hide her fear from Jarrin. Sensitive to emotions, the harper could see her tension in her stiff, rigid figure and in her silence. He noticed she crept closer to Caliath too, with an arm flung out to touch the dragon as though to reassure herself that he was still with her.

What's she doing here? he thought, helplessly. She's too afraid to do anything… What was K'beth thinking of letting her come into this?

'I suppose K'beth might be back soon…' he said, weakly. He could get himself out of harm's way easily enough, but what was to be done about all K'beth's things? He'd never considered the possibility of trying to shift camp without Rosith's help. And what the shardin' hell was he supposed to do with a terrified dragonrider and her dragon?

He heard the tiny noise as Lystar dropped her hand from Caliath's hide and stood up, and he glanced back at her. Then his mouth dropped open. He could almost see the change in her, like a shining sword flashing out of its sheath.

Lystar lifted her chin. 'We don't need K'beth,' she said, firmly. 'We can shift camp. Cal will take us, and he can let Rosith know so that K'beth can find our new cave. Do you have any idea where we're going?'

Jarrin gaped at her in astonishment, and with increasing respect. Terrified she might be, but this girl, barely more than a child, had a rock solid core that leant her strength through the fear.

'Yes, I had some thoughts…' he managed, in answer to her question. 'There's some places to the west I saw…'

'Then let's go,' said Lystar. Jarrin could hear her movements as she gathered up K'beth's belongings from the cave floor – and presumably her own too, since she'd hardly have come out into the middle of nowhere with nothing but the clothes on her back. He smiled into the darkness in astonished delight, and bent to scatter the ashes of the fire, which glowed a fiery red for a second as he disturbed them and then faded. If K'beth asked her to come out and join him, Jarrin thought, I defer to his judgement. She may be scared half to death, but in a crisis she comes out on top.

It didn't take long to load K'beth's meagre belongings onto Caliath's broad back, and Lystar climbed up to sit on his neck ridge, sighing as she did so. She'd tried to take K'beth's words about clumsiness to heart, but the manoeuvre still lacked the elegance she'd have liked. She reached down a hand to Jarrin, who planted one foot against Caliath's hide and swung himself up behind her in a single economical motion.

Lystar sighed again, but the noise was whipped away by the wind as Caliath launched himself off the cave ledge, and lifted away with strong, clean wingbeats.

'Most of these valleys run north-south,' Jarrin shouted in her ear. 'Head west over a couple of mountain ranges.' He tapped her left shoulder to show her which way he meant. 'Eastwards the mountains get lower and the ground starts sloping down to the sea. Much easier terrain, so no good to us. We want places that are only easily accessible on dragonback.'

Lystar relayed the directions to Caliath, and called back as he began to turn, 'What about you? How do you get to us?'

She caught the beginnings of a laugh from Jarrin before the wind whipped the sound away from her. 'I'm a mountaineer!' he shouted. 'I grew up in the mounains, like K'beth. There's not many places I can't get.'

'K'beth grew up in the mountains?' Lystar asked, interested.

'Think so. Ask Caliath to descend a bit, please, so we can see better? There's a big rock formation I noticed – looks a bit like a runner beast's head. That's near the place I thought might do.'

Lystar complied. Caliath dropped height and speed swiftly, so that Jarrin had to grab hold of her belt to keep his balance. _Careful, Cal_, she said mildly. _I'm not sure how firmly strapped on some of this stuff is. We don't want to lose it_.

Caliath ignored her. _Is that your runner beast's head?_

'Jarrin!' shouted Lystar, and pointed, slewing her whole body to the left to get the rock formation Caliath indicated in the field of view of her good eye.

'That's it,' the harper called. 'The cave is just round behind. There's not much of a ledge though. You and Caliath should take a look before you try to land.'

'Will do. Thanks, Jarrin.' _Did you get that Cal? Circle round and come in low and slow behind that thing. Be prepared to pull out upwards if we can't land_. 'And hang on tight,' she shouted to Jarrin. 'We might have to go up steeply!'

'Sure.' Jarrin flexed his hands, then took a firmer grip on her belt. She could feel his warm presence against her back, welcome relief in the freezing night air.

That made her think of something, and she darted a glimpse up at the starlit sky. It was still dark, but she fancied that in the east it was beginning to be tinted blue rather than black. _And Cal_, she added. _Hurry up_.

They accomplished the landing easily enough. Jarrin had been right when he noted there wasn't much of a ledge for a dragon to land on, but the cave entrance was large enough for a small dragon to fly right inside. A blue and a green should have no trouble.

Caliath had barely landed before Jarrin leapt down. 'I have to go,' he said. 'I need to be back some time in the early morning, and I want time to work round so I don't appear from this direction.'

'Uh, sure,' said Lystar, then frowned, following him to the entrance of the cave. 'What do they think you've been doing all this time?'

Jarrin gave a crooked grin. 'Scouting out Holds for possible raids,' he said, and patted a parchment tucked through his belt. 'Information provided by the Masterharper.'

'Does that mean it's incorrect?' Lystar asked.

There was a long silence. Jarrin looked away.

'No,' he said, eventually. 'It can't be – or they'd notice I was tricking them.'

Lystar swallowed hard. 'Oh,' she said, quietly. A wave of sympathy washed over her. She could only just begin to imagine how it must feel to hand over that information to people who would use it to steal a family's livelihood. She could see Jarrin's face for the first time now that they were outside in the starlight, and it was scored through with grim and unhappy lines. 'Don't go back,' she said, impulsively.

Jarrin looked at her, surprised. 'Where did that come from?'

'You don't have to,' she said. 'I mean – you know where they are and who they are. You should take that information back to the Masterharper and let him inform the Lord Holders. You don't have to do anything else.'

Jarrin's mouth curved up into a sad, shadowy smile. 'One thing. Who helped them? We still don't know where those flamethrowers came from – they must have been stolen from a Hold, or I suppose they could be from a Crafthall, and we don't know which one or how.'

Lystar made a small, helpless movement of her hands. 'We don't have to know that.'

Jarrin looked at her. 'You know we do really.'

There was a long pause. Lystar could hear the wind, and her own breathing whistling in her ears, but nothing else in the whole bleak landscape was moving.

'Well,' Jarrin said briskly, squaring his shoulders. 'I'll be off then – oh. I remember. I was going to say, it won't be safe for me to slip away for a while. I'll have to do a long stint without coming out here at all.'

Lystar looked at him, seeing how his business-like front hid misery and pain. 'The _last_ stint, then,' she said, firmly. 'Is that a deal? You have one last chance to find out who's helping them, and then you go home.'

Jarrin looked at her curiously, the scared and naïve girl who had suddenly taken charge with unexpected firmness, then flashed a smile suddenly, a real smile. 'It's a deal,' he said. He glanced up at the sky. 'The moons've set, but if you take a look tomorrow night you can see where they are relative to each other. Timor's a crescent, rising first, with Belior following, nearly at the full. When they're back in the same alignment, I'll meet you or K'beth here – and that will be the end of it.' He paused. 'Goodbye, Lystar.' Then Jarrin turned on his heel and swung himself down the five foot drop to the valley floor. He looked up at her for a minute, and she saw his eyes flash in the starlight, and then he turned and marched away.

'Until we meet again, Jarrin,' said Lystar, quietly. She turned quickly, unwilling to watch the harper's figure disappearing into darkness, and groped her way back into the cave. _Where are you, Cal?_

_Here_, said Caliath. She reached his bulk and flung an arm around him, burying her face in his soft hide.

_You won't ever leave me, will you, Cal?_

_Never_. Caliath wrapped his tail around her to hold her tightly. _You will always have me_.

* * *

Rosith came out of _between_, and dropped suddenly, causing K'beth to snatch at his riding straps. _Careful!_

_Sorry_, said Rosith, her labouring wingbeats slowing their fall to a manageable level as they glided down into the valley, the sky above them just beginning to turn grey. _The air here is too cold. Not much lift. It is easy to go down_.

K'beth raised an eyebrow, amusement creeping into his mental voice. _I'd say that's a trifle obvious when we're sixty feet up in the air, love_.

Rosith glided down to just below the level of the ledge, then tilted her wings and rose up to perch on the edge, killing her remaining speed. _Caliath is not here_, she said, puzzled.

_What?_ K'beth asked, then looked towards the cave. Rosith was right – it was very dark and quiet. He jumped to the ground, sudddenly afraid, and ran towards the cave. 'Lystar!'

There was no answer. K'beth dashed inside the cave, looking round in the dim grey light, but he already knew, with a sick feeling in his belly, that there was going to be no one there.

Complete desolation met his eyes. Everything was gone, even the ashes of the fire scattered to the corners of the cave. K'beth crouched down, resting his head in his hands. Suddenly he felt very tired.

He'd known something terrible would happen. Whether by choice or – K'beth didn't even want to think of the alternatives. However it had happened, Lystar had left him as suddenly as she had come.

And K'beth was not going to rest until he found her again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Yes, strangely enough, Anne McCaffrey still owns Pern. Not me. Only the characters and plot here are mine.**

**AN: Another short one, I'm afraid – er, make that _really_ short – but important. I apologise, because it's not even very good, but it's what I've got, so… Watch for the gap in between this and the previous chapter.

* * *

**

_Sit down_, said Caliath. _You are making me dizzy_.

_Don't watch, then!_ Lystar snapped, without ceasing her pacing around the cave. _No, I'm sorry, Cal, I didn't mean that. But where's Jarrin?_

Caliath disdained even to answer that. They both knew that he had no idea. Instead he fixed Lystar with his whirling eyes. _Will it help him for you to drive all three of us crazy?_

Lystar looked round. K'beth and Rosith were watching her – the dragon with what looked like amusement, the man with some anxiety.

'Sorry,' she said, and sighed. She sat down on the rough stone, folding up long legs, and Caliath lazily shifted his head so that she could reach to scratch his eyebrow ridge.

From her position on the floor she could see out of the wide cave entrance. The sky was clear again, and the stars were hard, bright points against its blackness. She couldn't see the moons. Both had set early in the night. But Lystar had been watching them creep across the sky for days, and she knew that they had again reached the positions she and K'beth had carefully memorised the night after Jarrin left.

'It's all right,' said K'beth, giving her a weak smile. 'I'm on the point of charging out myself to look for him.'

'I'll come with you,' Lystar told him. 'It'd be a relief to do something… anything…'

'Well, I'm certainly not leaving you behind by yourself,' retorted K'beth, and Lystar imagined she could see the corner of his mouth twitching through the shadows of the cave. 'Not after the fright you gave me last time. I thought I'd lost you, Lystar.'

He means that, Lystar thought, astonished, and for a moment the wonder covered up her anxiety and restlessness. It mattered to him, when he thought I'd gone. She remembered what she'd said to Caliath, a long time ago now, and repeated it silently to herself, suddenly tasting every word. He sounds like he cares…

She opened her mouth, with no very clear idea what she was going to say. 'K'beth –'

_Someone is out there_, said Caliath.

* * *

As Lystar had prowled restlessly around the cave, K'beth was reminded irresistably of her father. R'lan was a good man and a good Weyrleader. He was strong and brave, clever, well-liked. But everyone knew that it was Reia's calm, steady presence that kept him that way.

Who did Lystar have? K'beth thought. Caliath? Maybe. But…

He knew what he wanted the answer to be. Him. He wanted to be the one who was there for Lystar, the one who protected her. No, more than that – he wanted… a… a… a _right_ to protect her.

_The truth is_, he said bitterly to Rosith, _I've gone completely soft over her_.

He knew why. It was because of her vulnerability and her hidden strength, her long legs and those soft brown eyes, the worried look he wanted to smooth away, her indomitable spirit and the caring heart behind it.

_This is a bad thing?_

_Er… no. Not exactly. Not normally. But…_

K'beth wanted to speak to Lystar, to let her know what he felt, to tell her he would always look after her. He wanted to reach out and hold her slim, warm body, to kiss away the creases in her forehead, to love her and make her his own. But…

It wouldn't be fair. He knew it with an instinctive understanding beyond thought. If she didn't, if she couldn't, feel the same way, Lystar had nowhere to go. She was trapped in the middle of a hostile world, her emotions and resources drained from living across herself. She had – she'd have – no real choice.

And she trusted him. They'd been strange days, these past months, dreamlike, like a slice of time lifted out of real life. And Lystar had talked – shards, he knew there was nothing else to do, but she'd talked with the candour of a naïve child, unconsciously presenting him with her trust like a gift, delicate, shining, beautiful. It terrified him, and exhilarated him also, because surely it meant she felt safe with him… But to act now would be a betrayal of that fragile, bright trust, and so K'beth knew he was chained.

He would speak to her when they got back to the Weyr, he promised himself that. The minute that this was all over, that they were back where they belonged. And he would show her with more than mere words…

Rosith's dragonish sigh was very loud in his head. _Just so long as you do not neglect _me, she said, firmly. _It is all very complicated. It is simpler for dragons_. Then she lifted her head and looked towards the cave entrance, distracted. _There is someone coming_.

* * *

_Is it Jarrin, Cal?_ Lystar scrambled to her feet again and found that K'beth had also risen in response to Rosith's prompting.

_Yes_.

Lystar sighed with relief, and turned to K'beth, her face lighting up. 'He's here!' She couldn't hear anything from outside, but she trusted the dragons' acute senses.

'Yes,' K'beth agreed. He went to the cave mouth and peered out, but the faint grey starlight defeated his eyes. He turned back to Lystar, frustrated. 'I can't see anything.'

'Ssh!' Lystar froze, her eyes widening. A second later K'beth's ears also caught the sound – rocks falling, clattering as they bounced against the mountainside on their way down. The notes as the rocks landed were very sharp and clear in the night air.

'Jarrin,' said K'beth. 'He must have knocked something as he climbed in…'

Then they heard the shouting.

_The harper is being followed_, remarked Caliath.

Lystar swung round. 'K'beth, did you –'

'I heard.' K'beth glanced round the cave. 'Lystar, Caliath, go and pick him up and get out of here. Rosith and I will meet you.' He snatched up his belongings and began bundling them up inside a blanket in quick but unpanicked movements. 'Go on, Lystar. Get Jarrin and get up high, out of range of a flamethrower. I've got a few minutes yet. Rosith doesn't need very much space to go _between_.'

'Right,' Lystar managed. Turning away from K'beth's calm, comforting presence, she headed towards the mouth of the cave in a stumbling run. _Cal –_

_I'm here_. Caliath had heaved his huge bulk up and was galloping alongside her. Girl and dragon shot out into the starlight together, and Lystar turned and hauled herself up onto Caliath's back with an energetic scramble that grazed hands and knees. Ignoring the sting, she clung onto her dragon's back as he bunched his muscles and leapt into the air.

She had no saddle and no riding straps, she realised. She'd left them lying somewhere in the cave. K'beth wouldn't have forgotten, she thought, blinking. I'll just have to manage. _Can you see Jarrin, Cal?_

_Yes. Look_.

Hanging on to her dragon's neck ridge, Lystar leant sideways to see round Caliath's head. The blue dragon was right. Faintly illuminated silver by the starlight, a tall dark figure was leaping down the steep, rocky slope at the head of the valley with what seemed like reckless speed. Rocks and stones clattered down around him, and Lystar realised with a surge of anxiety that the whole mountainside could begin to slip, throwing Jarrin down into the valley under a heap of stone.

_Go on, Cal. You're gonna have to land, we've got to pick him up_. Lystar leant over again. 'Jarrin!'

He looked up and saw her, checking his pace. 'Lystar! Watch out, they're –'

'I can see them,' she called, grimly. Behind Jarrin, two more figures had crested the ridge and began a precipitous descent. But the harper had a couple of minutes lead on his pursuers, and Lystar planned to use it. _Ready, Cal?_

_Ready_, Caliath agreed.

_Go on, then_.

Caliath folded his wings and dropped swiftly towards the harper.

Lystar hung on tightly as they swooped towards the ground. They were coming down right beside Jarrin, who tensed himself, and almost before Caliath landed flung himself up towards Lystar, landing sprawled on his front across the blue dragon's neck.

Without giving the harper time to pick himself up Caliath lifted off again, frantic wingbeats drowning the shouting of Jarrin's pursuers. Lystar thought that the dragon must be picking up on her anxious images of flamethrowers and burning dragons, because he rocketed upwards and leveled out at a height which Lystar knew no flamethrower would ever reach.

'Have they got bows?' Jarrin asked.

'Can't see any.'

'Good.' The harper loosened his grip and drew his elbows under his chest to haul himself up properly onto Caliath's back. 'You don't know what a relief it is to see you, Lystar.'

Caliath swerved violently to the right. Instinctively Lystar ducked and snatched hold of her dragon's neck ridge to keep herself on, hearing the swish of the arrow soaring over her head as it narrowly missed burying itself in Caliath's left wing.

Jarrin, lying across the dragon's back, had nothing to hold on to. Lystar caught one glimpse of his pale face as he was jerked off Caliath's back and fell towards the mountains below.

_Cal!_ she screamed, and the dragon dived after the falling man.

* * *

Afterwards, Lystar would be grateful for three things.

The first was that Caliath had passed over a ridge while they flew so that as they headed towards the ground they passed out of sight of the bandits, and that accurate – or lucky – archer wasn't able to get off another shot at her or Caliath.

The second was that the bandits had apparently not found it worthwhile to bring with them their flamethrowers as they chased Jarrin. Or if they had, they never managed to get them into position to use them.

The third, and the best, was that they were not half as far from the ground as Lystar had thought.

So she was able to tumble off Caliath's back and run to Jarrin, crying with relief as she felt his pulse beating weakly but rhythmically, and to drag him up onto Caliath's back.

_Fly east, Cal_, she said, swallowing hard. _We have to get to the Healer Hall. Quickly!_


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Pern and the dragons of Pern belong to Anne McCaffrey**

**AN: This one is longer – it's easily the longest chapter so far – and (hopefully) better than the last, and things are beginning to move towards a conclusion. Please R&R!

* * *

**

Lystar and Caliath flew. The wind whipped into Lystar's face, freezing the tears on her cheeks and drawing the heat out of her. The stars above seemed very cold and hard and unforgiving.

She hunched forwards over Jarrin's form, trying to shield him from the worst of the wind. Lystar didn't know much about healing, but she realised that the harper needed to be kept as warm as possible. It was probably a bad idea to have moved him at all – but what else could she have done? In the dark, from her precarious position upon a dragon's back, Lystar couldn't even tell how bad the harper's injuries were, but when she touched his dark hair the blackness came away on her fingers with the distinctive metallic tang of blood.

She swallowed hard. She didn't know what to do now – only head for the Healer Hall as fast as Caliath could fly, and that was halfway across Pern. She wished K'beth was with her. He would know what to do.

_Where are K'beth and Rosith, Cal?_ she asked, and then, suddenly, anxiously, added, _They made it out of the cave all right? Before the bandits arrived?_

_The bandits did nothing for a long time except concentrate on us_, Caliath told her dryly. _Rosith was well away before they thought to look into the cave. She is bringing K'beth as fast as she can, but I can't give them the co-ordinates for a jump _between_ while moving this fast _and _in the dark, so it will take them some while to catch us up_.

* * *

Reia sipped her hot klah and glanced out at the clear evening. The air was still and warm, although not as hot as Ista's smothering tropical summer would become in a few months time. Timor was gleaming sickle-shaped in the sky above her and Belior was just heaving its round, ponderous bulk over the horizon.

'Thread tomorrow,' said R'lan, behind her.

'That's right.' Reia turned and smiled at her Weyrmate, but she had a faintly abstracted air about her.

'What is it?'

Reia waved a hand at the sky behind her. 'Isn't it time we were hearing from K'beth? You haven't spoken to the Masterharper recently, have you?'

'No. I think he's been busy.'

'As have we.'

'It's true.' R'lan grimaced. 'All the same, it's not like him to forget. I wonder if I should send a message? You're right – this is when K'beth told us that he and Jarrin were going to be packing up and coming home.'

'There's time for them yet.'

'That's true too.' R'lan balled one hand into a fist and pounded it into his other hand. 'But if something's happened… we might not hear for a long time. I don't even know where they are, do you?'

'No. But Shareth could find out easily enough, if you're worried.' Reia dropped the curtain she'd been holding back and it swung closed, shutting out the night. She walked back into the room, putting her klah down on the table and sat down beside her Weyrmate. 'What is it that's bothering you?'

The big man shrugged. 'I don't know. Not really. All kinds of little things. K'beth being out for so long and the Masterharper not being here and the thought of there being somebody in the Weyr who'd give those flamethrowers to the bandits and…'

'Just everything.'

'Uh-huh.' R'lan frowned. 'How's Lystar?'

'Recovered, but not at all happy.' Reia twisted her elegant mouth into a grimace. 'Not speaking to either of us, by what I hear from Gilda.'

R'lan sighed. 'Was I right? To stop her flying as I did?'

'I think so. She's got a point, in that I don't see what she's going to do with herself now she's well again if she _doesn't_ fly thread – but you couldn't very well have let her carry on as she was. Your responsibility is the safety of the Weyr and the lands you protect. You had to consider that first.'

'I know. But it still seems hard on the girl.' He gave Reia a twisted smile. 'We haven't been very good parents, have we?'

'I don't know if Weyrleaders can be,' she told him honestly. 'We have to see the bigger picture. Speaking of which, we're going out at dawn to fly thread, and if you don't need any sleep, I do.' Reia downed her mug of klah in one swift, definite movement. 'We will – we must – try and organise something for Lystar. And get in touch with K'beth and with the Masterharper. But we can't do any of those things now.'

'I know.' R'lan shrugged his shoulders. 'Anything else I should know about? Anything that will affect our flying thread tomorrow?'

'I don't think so. Er – Gilda on the warpath and half of the Lower Cavern in tears. Bessa acting a little strangely again. G'zul finally being driven to distraction by the twins –'

'Stop!' R'lan raised his hands in surrender. 'I don't think I _do_ want to know. Why G'zul continues to attempt to manage those sharding weyrlings I simply can't imagine. I think I'd go _between_ first.'

_We would_, Aneth assured him, fervently. _I will keep my distance from young and silly greens at all costs_.

R'lan smiled. _You should be flattered. You're getting on a bit, you know_.

_Nonsense!_ Aneth roared, rearing up in the darkness outside and flapping his wings. _I am the most powerful bronze in the Weyr!_

_Well_ – R'lan began, and was interrupted by Reia.

'Don't tease him, love,' she said, without a hint of reproof in her voice. 'Come on. Let's go to bed…'

* * *

The sunrise was like a great wave of gold rushing over them as they raced into the dawn. Caliath's wings, until then only dull grey shapes in the pre-dawn light, flamed into bright sapphire as he flashed into the sunlight.

Lystar barely noticed. All the dawn did for her was to throw a clearer light onto Jarrin's white, clammy face.

'Don't die on me, Jarrin,' she muttered. 'Come on.' She blinked tears out of her eyes. The harper looked like a lifeless wax doll, his head flopping backwards at an uncomfortable angle, but when she laid a tentative hand on his chest she could feel the feeble fluttering of his breathing. 'Faranth's egg, I don't know anything about healing! Oh, help – just hang in there, Jarrin, _please_. Shells, I'm so, so, sorry, you should never have trusted me. It's all my fault because I've been so _stupid_, and you don't deserve to suffer for it, not you. Oh shards, Jarrin, just _don't die_.' Vaguely, she became aware that she was babbling incoherently to a person who had no chance of hearing her, and she choked down on the flow of words. _Cal, where are we?_

_Over the sea_.

_That's _not_ very helpful!_

I_ know where I am, but it is difficult to explain it so that you would understand_. Lystar felt soothing reassurance wash over her from her dragon's mind. _Little one, I am flying as fast as I can. Keep the harper safe and keep him warm. There is nothing else that you can do now. We are helping him as much as we can. We will not let harm come to him_.

Screwing up her eyes against more tears, Lystar whispered, _I already did_.

_No. It was not your fault_, Caliath said, fiercely. _It is _his _fault and the bandits' fault and K'beth's fault and anyone's fault but yours and you are not to be upset_.

_I love you, Cal_, said Lystar, her throat constricting. Her dragon's illogical, blindly loyal claim threatened to bring a fresh storm of tears, and she leaned forwards to rest her head against his soft hide in grateful acknowledgement.

_I know. And I love you_.

They flew in silence for a few minutes, before Lystar added, _I'm so scared_.

When she touched Jarrin's cheek his skin was cold.

* * *

When dawn touched K'beth it found him frantic.

_Rosith, it's light, now get those sharding co-ordinates off Caliath!_

_I'm tired_, said the green, sounding slightly affronted. _I am getting there as fast as I can. Are you ready?_

_Yes!_ K'beth shut his eyes to concentrate harder on the picture of sea and sun that Caliath had flashed into his dragon's mind. _Go, love_.

_Between_ was cold and chilling on his skin, but K'beth was inured to its horrors. He was far more worried about what he might find when he leapt out on the far side. Only practice and discipline held the co-ordinates firm in his mind.

When they burst back into the real world K'beth was dazzled by the brightness, clinging onto Rosith's neck ridge while he blinked furiously, attempting to bring his watery eyes into focus. Temporarily he was unaware of what was happening around him, only the blue dazzle of the water, the white glare of the sun and the pale green glimmer of Rosith's hide. But nothing would make him miss Lystar's voice. 'K'beth!'

'Lystar!' He turned his head towards her startled voice instinctively, making out Caliath's bright bulk in the glare. 'Are you all right? And Caliath?'

'Yes, yes, we're fine, it's Jarrin!' she called, and now K'beth could hear the panic in her voice. 'He fell from Caliath's back! He's unconscious and I think badly hurt, but I can't tell! K'beth, I don't know what to do!'

'Calm down!' _Can you get a little closer, sweetheart?_ K'beth asked silently. _I don't think I can carry on a soothing conversation if I have to shout everything I say_.

_Yes_, said Rosith, shortly. K'beth didn't have time to wonder why his dragon sounded annoyed, because as they drew closer he could see Lystar's pale, terrified face and see the body that she was holding limply in her arms. He swallowed, and turned his eyes away from his friend's inanimate form back to the bluerider's face.

'You're doing the right thing, Lystar,' he said, soothingly, as soon as he got close enough. 'We just have to get him to the Healer Hall. But why haven't you gone _between_ already?'

He saw Lystar flinch and realised his mistake. 'Oh, shards.' He hesitated, glancing down at the sea below them. 'Er… d'you think that you can pass him across while Rosith and Caliath are flying?'

'I don't think that we can take him _between_,' Lystar said, hoarsely. 'The cold… and it's hard to breathe _between_.' K'beth saw her bite her lip nervously, and rest a hand gently on Jarrin's chest. 'He's having enough trouble breathing already…'

K'beth shuddered. 'Shards and shells. I guess you're right. We fly straight, then.'

'Yeah.'

K'beth looked at her sharply. 'What is it?'

Lystar's pale face was bleak and despairing. She spoke so quietly that K'beth had to strain to hear her across the rushing wind of their passage. 'It was my fault.'

'What?'

'It… I…' Lystar swallowed, her throat thickening so that the words were hard to force out. 'I told him it was safe. But I couldn't see… he didn't know I couldn't tell… he didn't know about my eye!'

'Your eye?'

Lystar snapped her head round to face him, her wide eyes flowing with tears. 'I didn't say that!'

K'beth frowned. 'I can't help if I don't know. Tell me.'

Lystar went, if possible, even whiter than she had been. K'beth watched her closely, wishing he understood her fear. He didn't even know if it was so very terrible – Lystar had been so long with no one except Caliath to confide in that her fears could have been nurtured and grown out of proportion in secret. He looked up at her with concern filling his eyes.

'I…' Lystar's voice sounded rusty and hoarse. 'I… it's an old thing. A long time ago. I had an accident. Nobody ever knew. I…' She screwed her face up, and K'beth knew she was on the point of revealing a deeply held secret. 'I… I hurt my eye,' she said, all in a rush. 'I'm blind in one eye. I can't see anything on my left side. That's why I got threadscored. That's why I didn't see the archer and Jarrin fell. He didn't know it wasn't safe to trust me!'

K'beth swallowed, horrified. What a thing to hide, let alone for years, a disability like that! 'Why didn't you tell someone?'

'Dragonriders must fly,' Lystar whispered, so that he barely heard the words. 'I had to fly. They would have taken me off our wing if they'd known, and Cal and I had to fly thread. We had to – _I_ had to – prove…

'Prove what?' K'beth asked, quietly.

'That I'm not just Lystar fool.'

* * *

Lystar and Caliath flew. They had fallen silent after she'd made her confession to K'beth, and Lystar was glad of it. She still shivered when she thought that her old secret was out – yet in a way she would have been glad to discuss it and her past further. It would take her mind off the awful present. Lystar couldn't bear to look at Jarrin's still, pale face anymore, but she kept his form cradled against her chest, trying to share her warmth with him. After all he'd done – after what he'd risked for – well, for Pern – for her to let him down…

Caliath was flying as straight and sure as an arrow still, but Lystar could feel the dull, poisonous ache in the dragon's muscles that was the sign of his weariness. She reached out mentally to Caliath to try to sooth that pain away and felt him respond with a fresh surge of energy. She would not – she could not – give in while she was Jarrin's only chance.

It was as if they were all alone in the world, two dragons and two riders chasing through an empty sky on a fruitless quest. Lystar shivered. No, not fruitless. Jarrin was still breathing. He would survive. They _would_ arrive in time. She had to believe that.

She was glad K'beth was with her. She turned round to tell him so, and almost screamed.

K'beth heard Lystar gasp, and looked up through the haze of weariness. 'Lystar, what is it? What's wrong? Can I –?'

'K'beth –' he thought he heard her say, faintly, but it sounded as though she was a long way away. He shook his head, trying to clear his ears. Now he was concentrating he was aware of a faint buzzing that seemed to surround his head.

'Lystar, what's wrong?'

'You, K'beth, you're –'

'I can't hear you!' _Rosith, love, we have to get closer again. I think we're dropping behind Caliath_.

_We are_, said Rosith, faintly. _I'm not sure… I do not think I can close the gap…_

_Rosith!_ Sharp alarm lanced through K'beth's exhaustion and jerked him back into full awareness. Now he could see what Lystar was trying to tell him. Rosith's glowing hide had faded to the colour of old parchment.

'You've got to take Rosith back to the Weyr.' Now that he was fully awake, K'beth could hear Lystar clearly. 'She's not as strong as Cal – she needs to rest!'

'I won't leave you, Lystar!' K'beth's reaction was instinctive, but then faltered as he looked back at his pale dragon. Her flying was becoming noticeably jerky as she tried to keep up with the larger blue's pace.

'You have to! You'll kill Rosith!' Lystar looked afraid; but then she'd looked afraid ever since she'd arrived. He'd wanted to do something about it. He still wanted it, and looking at Lystar's pale, frightened face made him more determined than ever to stay with her and help her.

_You can do it, love, can't you?_ he asked anxiously, though deep in his heart he knew the answer.

_Yes_, Rosith lied. She made a huge effort and pumped her wings a couple of times to draw level again with Caliath. K'beth could feel the effort it took her screaming through all his own muscles. _For you. I _can_ make it all the way_.

Her determination to do what he wanted her to made far more impact on K'beth than an argument would have done. His heart twisted. Lystar was right. As the green dragon was willing to go on for him, so he had to be willing to turn back for her sake. To save Rosith, half of his heart, he _had_ to jump _between_ to the Weyr. And that meant leaving Lystar…

He looked up again, and met the girl's eyes, vivid and dark in her strained, white face. 'Lystar…'

'It's all right, K'beth, I'll be fine.' Lystar managed to dredge up a twisted smile. 'You were going to have to let me manage alone at some point.'

'Not this soon! I –'

'I know. But you have to go, K'beth. Rosith needs you.'

'Yes.' _Rosith, ready to jump to the Weyr?_

_Yes_, said the green dragon, faintly.

K'beth looked up again at Lystar. She was looking back at him with eyes that seemed far older than her years, and he saw with a painful ache that there seemed already to be a barrier of distance between them, as if she was rushing away into a place where he couldn't follow her, where he couldn't help her. Impulsively, K'beth raised himself up on shaky knees, flinging out a hand in a desperate attempt to reach her. 'Lystar, it wasn't your fault! You can't blame yourself for what the bandits did!' He took a deep breath. 'Lystar, I –'

Rosith slipped _between_.

'– love you.' K'beth whispered to the freezing emptiness.

* * *

Lystar and Caliath flew onwards. With K'beth and Rosith gone, the whole world seemed very empty – and very large. Lystar could feel her dragon's tiredness creeping up on her through their mental link, urging her to give in, and to relax her grip.

She bit her lip. She dared not. Neither she nor Caliath could afford to relax for as much as a second. If they did so, themselves and Jarrin would all be spiralling towards a watery grave.

Lystar shut her eyes, and set her mind on forcing both herself and Caliath to continue. Her wrists, hands and knees ached from clinging onto Caliath's back without the support of riding straps and keeping Jarrin securely on the blue dragon's back. She could feel in her shoulders and back Caliath's tremendous strain. She knew, if she cared to think about it, that no dragon had ever attempted a task comparable to the magnitude of what they had set themselves. To save Jarrin they would have to fly half-way round Pern at the sort of speed that faster than most dragons could sustain throughout a threadfall. No, no one had done it before. Why bother, with the convenience of _between_?

But we _can_ do it, Lystar thought, through gritted teeth. It's the one thing everyone says about us. We may not be especially fast or agile, but by the First Egg, Cal and I are tough. We _can_ keep going. We _will_.

* * *

It took all of K'beth and Rosith's willpower to heave themselves out of _between_ in their exhausted condition. Even then K'beth thought they'd done something wrong. His heart skipped a beat as he saw that yet again they were flying over the sea, this time trailing nearer and nearer to the waves as Rosith's strength waned.

Then he saw the island, just a little beyond them, and the Weyr. _Come on, sweetheart_, he muttered. _Rosith, it's right there. You brought us back. You're the bravest, cleverest green in the whole Weyr. No, on the whole of Pern. You just have to get us there, love_.

_I can do it_, Rosith gasped out.

_You beautiful_, said K'beth, with feeling, as the green dragon managed to pull them slowly round and heave them back up towards the top of the Weyr's crater. He saw from the corner of his eye a flicker of movement as a blue dragon lifted off from the Weyr rim, but paid no attention to it. His own vision was fuzzy, and his tensed muscles were shaking violently. He blinked hard to try and clear his head and give Rosith all the help he could with his own force of will, but he had very little thought left that wasn't slipping into haziness.

Then he loosened up all of a sudden, voicing a sigh of relief that wasn't connected with the relaxing of his own muscles. Rosith had suddenly gone limp in the air; but they weren't falling. A dragon was lifting them doggedly upwards, slowly but surely heaving Rosith's inert form over the rim of the Weyr.

_Still there, love?_

_I love Caliath_, said Rosith, faintly but fervently.

_Caliath?!_ The shock was almost enough to jolt K'beth awake. _How can Caliath be –?_ Then it clicked. Of course; Lystar and Caliath hadn't yet jumped back through time to meet him. The events that had led to Lystar stumbling into his cave, half dead of cold and misery, had barely begun.

The dragons spiralled down into the Weyr bowl rather faster than K'beth would have liked. _Sweetheart?_ he asked, and valiantly Rosith began to pump her wings, helping Caliath to slow their descent.

K'beth felt the jerk as Caliath slipped away from underneath them and Rosith was suddenly bearing their full weight again. It was too much; they jolted downwards and slammed into the baked earth. _Rosith! Are you all right?_ he asked, desperately, but never heard the green dragon's answer. He was flung off by the impact of their landing and found himself caught by a slim, strong figure.

K'beth looked up into the worried brown eyes of the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and managed to grin. 'I'm shardin' glad to see you, Lystar.'

* * *

Lystar and Caliath flew onwards. Lystar barely registered the bright line of surf and white beaches in the distance that grew closer and closer until Caliath shot above the land and flew on over a patchwork pattern of fields and houses. Both she and her dragon felt the winds suddenly buoy them up as they reached warmer air above the solid ground; but that was all the notice that either of them paid to the scenery.

Lystar was lying down now, flat along Caliath's neck, holding Jarrin's body close alongside hers in a grotesque embrace. With her face flat against her dragon's warm, soft skin she could hear the heartbeat thundering through his body, deep below the surface, and it felt as though it reverberated through her own frame as well. She knew she was linked into Caliath's mind closer than she'd ever been before. Her muscles were strained and taut, screaming with the pain of Caliath's effort, and it was her stubborn will that drove the dragon on, keeping his wings flapping even through the pain and fatigue that filled and clouded the dragon's mind.

_This is the kind of link they say you get in a mating flight_, she thought vaguely in the blue dragon's direction, and then the thought whirled away and was lost. She didn't have room in her head to inspect it in more detail; there was really nothing left but the exhaustion and the determination. Lystar and Caliath couldn't tell whose mind originated which emotion. They swayed precariously between the two; first knowing that they could not possibly continue, and then knowing that they must. But even while they debated internally Caliath's wings continued to pump up and down, and Lystar held Jarrin tightly.

* * *

_Mustn't sleep_, K'beth thought, firmly, pulling himself out of the thick, soft darkness that wanted to close around his mind and swallow him up.

_Why not?_ Rosith, asleep herself, half woke up as he spoke to her.

_I… I don't remember_, he said uncertainly. _Go to sleep, precious one. I can work this out. You need your rest_.

Rosith grumbled inaudibly. He couldn't hear her with his real ears, he realised. They couldn't be in their weyr. Of course – no one would have been able to lift Rosith up there. Rosith didn't answer him again, but he could feel a touch of shame crossing their emotional link. He reached out to connect more closely with Rosith's mind and realised that she felt guilty that he'd had to leave Lystar for her sake. She knew it was making him worried and blamed herself; but he couldn't blame her at all. He would never blame his elegant green love for anything.

_You were a heroine today, Rosith_, he said, softly. _I've never been so proud of you. Caliath is a lot bigger and stronger than you, and it was very brave of you to keep going as long as you did_.

Again, Rosith didn't answer, her mind drifting around the boundaries of sleep. But K'beth felt her mood lighten, and felt free to turn his thoughts back onto his own problem, dragging his mind free and disassociating it as far as possible from his weary dragon. Academically, he knew it was Rosith's exhaustion and not his own that clouded his mind, but that made no difference to the crawling speed of his thoughts. Why couldn't he sleep? What must he do first?

His recent memories were blurred through hazy vision and a tired mind. He remembered lying in a guest room – yes, that was where he must be, and Rosith was outside somewhere, beyond the range of his physical ears – with Gilda fussing over him, and the Healer up from the Hold to check him over, but he hadn't been hurt of course, only Jarrin had been injured…

Jarrin – Lystar. Lystar! She rang a bell in his mind. She was something to do with why he couldn't sleep yet.

Where was Lystar? She was a world away, heading for the Healer Hall with Jarrin. But he'd seen her, hadn't he? Yes, he could vaguely remember those worried brown eyes. He'd seen her here because in this time Lystar was _also_ here at the Weyr. She and Caliath hadn't jumped back in time yet.

K'beth opened his eyes, staring into the darkness of the guest room, trying to force his brain to work. He had to try and talk to Lystar. If there was any way that he could help to ease the misery that he was about to plunge herself into, he knew he would do anything.

* * *

Flying was all that Lystar knew. She was barely aware when Caliath stiffened his wings and dropped into a long glide, floating down towards the earth. But when he jolted to rest on the hard ground among the buildings of the Healer Hall, Lystar did notice. She fell off his back, Jarrin's dead weight lurching into her and throwing her off balance.

When she smacked onto the ground, a healer who had been waiting politely for her to descend realised that something was wrong. Before Lystar had really woken up and begun thinking properly she was being lifted by gentle hands who set her on her feet and steadied her until she could stand upright alone. Jarrin was lifted out of her grasp and carried away into a building, and blinking furiously to clear her vision, Lystar reached out after him instinctively.

'Gently now,' said a voice beside her left ear. 'He'll be looked after.'

'He'll be all right?' Lystar asked anxiously, turning to bring the owner of the reassuring voice out of her blind spot.

'Can't tell. Wait until the Masterhealer has examined him. I should say he'll have a fighting chance.'

'Oh, thank you!' Lystar shook her head clear of the fog for a little and inspected the slim, fair man standing beside her – a senior journeyman of the Healercraft by his shoulder knots. 'Thank you,' she said again. 'He's a harper – Jarrin. The Masterharper will want to know…'

The healer smiled, one corner of his mouth crooking up. 'I'll send a message once we know what's likely to happen. Now what about you? You don't look injured to me, but you and your dragon are exhausted. You need to rest.'

'No,' said Lystar, instinctively. 'I'll wait… I have to know…'

The healer frowned. 'You really –' He stopped when he say Lystar's strained, pleading expression.

'Please. I – it was my fault!' She swallowed, and repeated. 'I have to know.'

'All right. But sit down!' The healer put a hand under her elbow to support her, and Lystar leant on it gratefully, realising that her knees were shaking.

'You haven't got any klah, have you? I could really use…'

The fair man laughed. 'I bet you could. I'll get you some. You sit down!'

'Oh, no, I can get –'

'No, I'll do it.' The healer released her gently, leaving her standing on her own fragile legs. He smiled at her again, and strode across the courtyard, detouring around Caliath's bulk to disappear into a building.

Left alone, Lystar hobbled across to where the blue dragon had lain down in the centre of the courtyard, wings and head extended and stretched out around him. _Are you all right, Cal?_

_I ache all over. I am going to sleep here. I don't care what they want this courtyard for_. Caliath's voice was faint.

_You do that_. Lystar looked at her tough, gallant dragon tenderly. _You deserve your rest_.

Moving slowly, so as not to disturb her dragon or knock any of her own smarting bruises from where she had tumbled from Caliath's back, Lystar sat down on the floor and leant against the blue. The sun shone brightly on her face, and down here there was no harsh wind to snatch the heat from her body and whisk it away behind. Warmed by the sun, finally at rest, Lystar closed her eyes for a second.

Jarrin was waiting in her head. He looked at her with his sad, lopsided smile, half-turning away into the night outside. That was the only time I ever saw him, Lystar thought, incredulously. And for a couple of minutes, before I… before I let him fall. Feels like longer than that. And I _know_ he and K'beth are friends – I've seen how much he cares in K'beth's eyes when he talks about Jarrin – but I've never seen them together. And I might not. And it will be all my fault…

* * *

K'beth didn't know how much later he was jerked from half-sleep by the slight rustle as the heavy curtain at the door of his room was drawn aside. Despite his resolve to speak to Lystar, he'd found that he lacked to energy to actually climb from the bed and go in search of her. He'd barely managed to hang onto consciousness this far. He turned his head to see who was entering.

The slight figure in the doorway was a mere silhouette, outlined by the light of the passage way outside, but it was a silhouette that K'beth couldn't fail to recognise. He gave a faint sigh of relief. 'Lystar,' he said, quietly.

'Yes? Is there something you need?' He could tell that she was startled that he was awake. 'You should be sleeping…' She sounded worried, and it went straight to his heart that even among the troubles he knew that she was already having she'd spared the time to come and check up on him. But that was Lystar all over. She always had the time for people.

'I couldn't sleep until I'd seen you. You're so strong, Lystar… you can't see that, can you? And straight and true as an arrow.'

'What?' Lystar dropped the hanging that she was holding, and the room was plunged into darkness. She swore quietly, and then he heard a distinct wobble in her voice as she said, 'K'beth, I hardly know you! What are you talking about?'

He frowned. It was hard to think through the fog in his brain, that insisted he should be asleep, far away like Rosith, flying through his dreams. But he needed to talk to Lystar. He needed to help her. 'No, you don't know me yet, Lystar, but I know you,' he said, slowly. 'That's the first thing you have to remember. Different people know different things at different times. Keep track of it.'

'K'beth, what's going on?' Lystar asked out of the blackness. 'Stop it! You're worrying me.' He heard the quavering note in her voice, and almost stopped. But however scared and confused she was now, he knew that she would be heading into things that would be worse. And – because from his point of view it had already happened – he could do nothing to stop it. But surely he could help her – somehow? K'beth made a supreme effort and heaved himself up onto one elbow so that he was facing her through the dark.

At that moment Lystar must have found the covered glowbasket, because the room suddenly filled with a flaring white light, and K'beth blinked desperately, his vision exploding in coloured spots.

'Just remember, Lystar!' he said, shakily. 'You _must_ keep track. That's the first thing. And you must remember how strong you are and how tough. You can do anything if you put your mind to it, you and Caliath. Anything!'

Lystar looked white and scared, and he remembered that even at this time she was bearing a burden of disability, a secret that she had told nobody. And burning in the light of the revelations of her older self, K'beth knew that she was thinking herself alone and worthless.

'You're _not_ nobody,' he said, sternly. 'That's the last thing, Lystar. _Never_ think like that. Remember that you are special. You and Caliath can do things other people would never even dream of. No one found out about your eye, did they?'

Lystar gasped. 'How did you – '

K'beth wasn't listening. His elbow gave out and he dropped back down onto the bed, his hair flopping across his eyes. K'beth lacked the energy to brush it aside. Of their own volition, his eyes sank closed. His mind was filling up with a fuzzy pink haze, and he knew that not even for Lystar was he going to be able to stay awake much longer. Had he helped at all? Would his words comfort her? He had to believe that they would.

'Are you all right?' Lystar's voice sounded scared and close.

He must reassure her, somehow, but try as he would K'beth couldn't force his eyes open. 'Yes,' he breathed. 'Just so tired… Remember, Lystar. You must remember.'

And he let himself slide away into darkness.

* * *

Lystar was woken by a touch on her arm, and jolted up into daylight completely disoriented. 'What?'

The healer smiled down at her. 'Here.' He passed down a steaming mug of klah, which Lystar took gratefully.

'You're a lifesaver.' She managed a tired grin. 'What time is it?'

'Nearly the eleventh hour.'

'What?!' Lystar sat bolt upright, slopping klah down herself, and her muscles complained. 'Shards!' More carefully, she climbed to her feet, trying not to strain already stiff and aching muscles. It proved an impossible task, and she had to bite her lip against the pain shooting through her shoulders and back. 'How can it be the eleventh hour? It can't possibly be more than about the eighth…'

'You've been asleep for a long time.' The healer thoughtfully retrieved her mug and helped her scramble to her feet before passing it back to her.

'And Jarrin? You –' Lystar broke off. The journeyman healer was smiling at her broadly. 'He's going to be all right? He really is, isn't he?'

The fair man nodded. 'Yes. He took a nasty head injury, but he woke up a while ago in full possession of his senses. He's not out of danger yet – but if they wake up and they seem sensible that usually means they'll make it.' He added, more seriously, 'You saved his life, you know. I don't know where you came from, but it must have been a long journey. He was freezing cold when he got here. If you'd taken longer over it, there's every chance he wouldn't have recovered from that.'

'I _saved_ his life?' Lystar asked, incredulously. 'But it was my fault!'

'He would have died if not for you,' said the healer, firmly.

_In another part of Pern, where the sun was beginning its descent towards the ocean, a blue dragon circled. His worried rider looked up and noticed the position of the sun. They exchanged a few comments; and then the blue dragon and his light, slim rider vanished_.

Lystar suddenly felt light and hopeful. She drew a deep breath, and smiled up at the journeyman. 'Thank you. That's good to know.' _Cal, are you awake? We're heading back to the Weyr_.

_I can't fly there straight_, Caliath said flatly. _Not in this state_.

Lystar laughed. She felt ridiculously happy, as if a great oppression had been removed. She felt as though she would never be scared again. She knew that she and Caliath could achieve anything that they set out to do. _You won't have to. We're going _between.

_Oh, you are over your fussing, are you? That's good_.

She laughed again. _I love you, Cal. Now heave yourself up so we can go_.

As Caliath began to delicately climb to his feet, shaking out his wings carefully, she turned back to the fair-haired healer. 'Cal and I are going back to the Weyr, if Jarrin's really all right.'

He looked faintly puzzled. 'Don't you want to see him?'

Lystar laughed, shaking her tangled hair back from her face, and passed the half-full mug of klah back to him. 'I've got the rest of our lives to do that. I'll be back. I'll get to know him properly, one of these days. I'll see him and K'beth together and we can all talk to each other at once! But for now, I'm going home.'

Caliath extended a foreleg for her, and Lystar planted a foot on it and leapt lightly up to sit astride her dragon's neck ridge. It didn't matter that she had no saddle or riding straps. Not any more.

She smiled down at the healer, who was looking up at her, his hair gleaming like a halo in the sun. 'Thank you. I don't even know your name.'

He grinned. 'I'm Nathen, lady.'

'And I'm Lystar, Caliath's rider, but not lady. Goodbye, Nathen. Thank you. Convey my regards to the Masterhealer.'

'I will. Fair winds on your journey!' He stepped back, and Caliath pumped his massive wings to lift them laboriously from the ground.

_You could have arranged for a drop to take off from, with me in this state_, he grumbled.

Lystar grinned again, and let him feel her amusement flowing down their link. The wind ruffled her hair as Caliath pulled away from the ground, and she closed her eyes, calling up a clear picture of the Weyr she loved so much.

_That would leave you with nothing to complain about, dear one_, she told the blue dragon. _Now let's go home_.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Pern and the dragons of Pern belong to Anne McCaffrey

* * *

**

The sunlight flooded around Lystar as Caliath came out of _between_ into the air above the Weyr. She was still tired, but it wasn't the terrible, sapping, painful exhaustion that they'd struggled with across all the skies of Pern. This was a golden, lazy tiredness, and Lystar smiled to herself as Caliath circled slowly down towards the Weyr bowl in the tropical afternoon sun. Summer had come to Ista Weyr, and Lystar was glad that she was back in time to see it.

_We made it_, she said, tiredly, and then corrected herself. You _made it, Cal. No one else could have done that. No dragon's as tough as you_.

_No rider's as brave as you_. Caliath's voice was as lazy as her own, but it was filled with love and she felt her mouth stretching as she gave a wobbly grin, restraining an irrational impulse to burst into tears. She caressed Caliath's neck.

_I love you, Cal. But there's plenty of people braver than me_.

_No_. Caliath was stubborn. _You are the bravest. You can do anything_.

She smiled again, swallowing. _That's what K'beth said. A long time ago_. She paused, and then abruptly began to laugh. _A long time ago – this morning! Cal – we're home!_

And Caliath folded his wings and dropped in a long spiral to alight on their weyr ledge.

Lystar slid from his back, and stood for a couple of moments in the shade of the great cliff face, trying to sort her thoughts into coherency, as Caliath slunk inside and curled up in his great bowl-like depression.

Then she heard footsteps behind her.

Unlike the oldest Weyrs, Fort and Benden, Ista had been hacked out of the rock by human labour. The workmen had needed a way to access the rock surface on which they were working, so – also unlike Fort and Benden – the weyrs were arranged in regular rows, with a ledge running along the front of each and rough-hewn, rocky staircases at the end of each layer of weyrs.

Now someone was walking along their ledge – the second level – towards her. Lystar turned, smiling warmly.

She'd expected K'beth, and the smile was for him. But instead, standing behind her was a tall, blonde young woman. 'Oh – good morning, Bessa,' Lystar said.

The junior weyrwoman didn't answer her. She met Lystar's eyes with her own limpid blue ones, and Lystar gasped at the haunting fear she saw in the other girl's face, and the ghost of sorrow in her eyes. 'What is it?' she asked, instinctively, reaching out towards Bessa. 'Can I help?'

Bessa gave a small, ragged sob, and pushed past her, running along the ledge to disappear into her own large, luxurious weyr. Lystar looked after her, frowning anxiously. What could be wrong with Bessa? Gilda might know. But she couldn't ask Gilda. She knew the Headwoman despised the young queenrider.

There _was_ no one else, Lystar realised. She set off down the ledge towards Bessa's weyr. She couldn't leave the weyrwoman alone in that state.

Before she had gone three paces, her knees crumpled, and she had to throw out a hasty hand to catch herself on the rock face. Inside their weyr, Caliath stirred and rumbled anxiously.

Lystar bit her lip, still looking after Bessa. But there was no real choice. She wasn't in any state to go after the girl now. _I'm coming, Cal_, she said, and slowly, leaning on the wall, began to retrace her steps into her own weyr. Disdaining the couch in the main chamber, she curled up between Caliath's forelegs, feeling the dragon's heat warm her back in the cool, shady weyr.

She'd go and see Bessa the minute she woke up, Lystar thought. The weyrwoman would be all right until then. She had her dragon to comfort her.

Caliath crooned gently in his doze. Lystar closed her eyes, and slid gently into dreamless sleep.

* * *

She swallowed nervously, biting her fingernails, her blonde hair straggling across her face. She knew she must look a fright, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She felt trapped, even in her spacious, airy weyr. What could she do? What could she do? Could she tell them what she knew? Not now. She couldn't come out with something like that now. It was too late. She'd missed her chance.

What could she do now? What could she do? Was there an answer to her problem? If they found out… And they'd find out. No question but they'd find out. Halith had got the whole story out of Rosith. She shivered. And if they didn't find out, then that would mean… that would mean another death – the harper's death, whatever his name was. And she didn't want that. She'd never wanted that. She'd never wanted anyone to be hurt!

She'd been trying to do the right thing, for Faranth's sake! Her face scrunched up into a crumpled ball as she tried to see a way through her desperation. What could she do? There was no answer.

Halith crooned, a long, anxious note as she sensed her rider's frantic worry. She pushed her triangular golden head through the doorway into her rider's quarter, her eyes whirling yellow with worry and fright. _Don't be distressed_, she begged. _You are wonderful. You are beautiful and clever and brave. Do not be sad_.

She stared at her incredible, beautiful, golden darling, and felt her heart swelling with pain and love. Halith would have to suffer too. She didn't know what they'd do to her when they found out, but it would hurt her and her dragon. She couldn't bear that – to see Halith suffer through what she had done. Perhaps they would try to separate them…

And Lystar had smiled at her, concern in her eyes, and asked her if there was anything she could do. For her! And she'd looked so white and tired all the time, as if she'd been through hardships and sorrows that she would never forget.

Brave. Halith thought she was brave. She knew she'd never be able to convince her dragon otherwise. But perhaps she could be brave enough – for Halith's sake. There was a way out. There was one way that she and Halith could stay together. If she was brave enough…

* * *

Lystar woke up curled comfortably against Caliath, and stretched out luxuriously. Her muscles were stiff and painful, but loosened up as she worked them. She climbed to her feet and hobbled into her main room, her gait becoming smoother as the muscles in her legs responded to her gentle motion.

It was dark, but Lystar could find the glowbasket on the ledge by the door without even thinking about it. She removed the shield covering the glows and surveyed her little weyr with pride and love. It was neat and tidy currently – Gilda's doing, that, while Lystar had been sleeping in the guest bedroom downstairs – but nothing could change its atmosphere to her eyes.

_You awake, Cal?_

_Yes_.

_I really need to wash, and I bet you do too. Fancy a swim?_

_It's night_.

_A _moonlight_ swim?_

_Yes. That would be nice_.

_C'mon, then. Just give me a second_. Lystar hastily swept a bag of soapsand off a ledge, and gathered up a pile of clean clothes and a rough cloth she could use to dry herself. She ditched her wherhide riding gear in a pile on the floor – she'd pick it up and wash it in the morning – and went out to join Caliath on the ledge wearing the muddied, sweat-stained and torn clothing that she'd had on when she'd first left the weyr for a short flight to clear her head on a warm afternoon.

It wasn't cold outside, and the lake water was refreshing and enjoyable. Lystar swum around a bit for the pure pleasure of feeling the water buoy her up before getting down to the serious business of scrubbing Caliath's hide clear of the dirt it had acquired during their stay in the cave. Sometimes she wished that she was high-ranking enough to merit a private bathing pool in her weyr, but the truth was that she enjoyed this time with her dragon. After all, by the time he was clean she was always sopping wet, so she might as well scrub herself clean before she changed her clothing.

Caliath wriggled as she rubbed the sand across his soft hide, crooning with pleasure, and she grinned at him even while keeping his mental voice stern. _How can I scrub you properly if you don't keep still?_

Caliath turned his great head in her direction, the moonlight glinting slyly in one great eye. Then he swept his tail underwater so that it connected hard with her legs and she was ducked into the lake.

Lystar came up coughing and spluttering. Shaking back her soaked, clinging hair, she splashed a wave of water over Caliath's head. The dragon splashed back, even more vigorously, and sheets of water sailed through the air, gleaming silver in the moonlight, until they vanished back into the black lake waters, making ripples of silver and black shadows race outwards from the point where the girl and her dragon played. Lystar giggled, and gave up. She would never win a splashing fight with her dragon.

After she'd washed and scrubbed Caliath's hide and got all the dirt she could out of her skin and hair, Lystar floated on her back in the lake next to her dragon, while the water stilled to a black mirror reflecting the stars. Up in the sky, Lystar could see the twin moons, still in roughly the positions Jarrin had indicated for her – so long ago, it seemed now, though it was only a few months. She smiled up at Timor and Belior. Now she knew that Jarrin would be all right, she could remember that alignment as a happy one.

_Come on, Cal_, she said, eventually. _Let's go back to the weyr and sleep again until morning_. She flipped over and swum the short distance to the shore, leaving Caliath to follow in his own time. By the time she had dried herself off, wringing out her hair – it was beginning to be a nuisance, she really _must_ get it cut – the dragon had followed her, water streaming off his back as he emerged from the lake like some awful creature of the deep. He extended a foreleg and Lystar climbed on for the short journey up to their weyr, the warm night breeze flapping into her face.

Caliath alighted gently on their ledge. Slipping to the ground, Lystar walked through into her living quarters, and dumped the rest of her soaking, dirty clothes with her weyrhide. She turned towards her couch – and then hesitated.

Eventually, she turned and walked softly back out of the weyr onto the rough-hewn ledge. _I'll be back in a minute_, she said to Caliath, who was settling into sleep again. Then she stepped out along the ledge, and paused outside Bessa's weyr.

She could hear no sound from within. Bessa and Halith must be asleep, then. Relieved, she turned to walk back towards her own bed, and then stopped, frowning. She knew her hearing was good, better than most people's since the accident to her eye. And she could hear nothing from inside the junior weyrwoman's weyr. Nothing. Surely it wasn't natural for a dragon to sleep quite that quietly?

She stepped inside Bessa's weyr, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Sure enough, Halith wasn't there.

Alarmed, Lystar pushed through the hanging that led to the blonde girl's sleeping quarters. 'Bessa?' She unshielded the glow basket, but she already knew what she'd see.

Neither Bessa nor her dragon were where they should be.

_Cal!_ she said, sharply. _Where's Halith? Can you ask_ –

Somewhere in the Weyr, a dragon wailed.

It wasn't the screaming of an angry or injured dragon; that was an awful sound, but one that Lystar'd heard often enough, one that was part of the ordinary life of the Weyr. This was a keening moan that rose in pitch and intensity as it continued, piercing Lystar's ears and shivering down her spine. Her skin creeped; suddenly, she was afraid. _Cal! What's that?_

The noise was growing, a huge wail that washed over the Weyr a message of misery and grief. Other dragons were taking up the cry, Lystar realised – and as she thought it she became aware of Caliath snaking out of their weyr and pulling himself up on his haunches, inflating his lungs to join the great lament. _What's happened, Cal?_ she demanded, hearing shouts of confusion and fear all over the weyr as other riders were woken by the dragon's wail.

* * *

All over Pern, the great golden queens felt and responded to Ista's distress. In Benden Weyr, basking in midday sunlight, the senior queen raised her wedge-shaped head and let out a trembling, grief filled note that was taken up by the all the dragons of the Weyr.

Katriel, the Weyrwoman, raised her head, her eyes widening._ What's going on, dear heart?_

_A queen has died_, said her dragon, sorrowfully. _Halith, of Ista, has gone _between.

* * *

K'beth jolted out of sleep when the first dragon wailed, stuffing his feet into his boots before he even finished waking up.

His first reaction was purely instinctive and completely irrational. He was out of his weyr and charging along the ledge that would lead him to Lystar's before Rosith had finished shaking off sleep. _Where are you going?_ she asked sleepily.

_Lystar is mixed up in this somehow. I just know_. He paused, slowing down to cross a narrower section of the ledge, then added, _Rosith, love_ –

He broke off. The green dragon was no longer listening to him. Her thoughts were full of sorrow and misery. Even as he raced around the Weyr, high above the bowl that was full of milling dragonriders and women from the Lower Caverns, frightened, unable to sleep, and unable to persuade grieving dragons to explain their sorrow, Rosith took up the wailing lament behind him.

Caliath was standing half out of his weyr, a darker shadow against the starlit sky, his head thrown up as he wailed his grief to the sky.

'Move over, Caliath!' K'beth yelled through the noise; but the blue dragon didn't even seem to hear him. K'beth thumped the dragon's hide, trying to persuade him to move over so that the greenrider could use the ledge, but it had no effect.

What if something's happened to Lystar? K'beth thought, suddenly. What if that's why Caliath is so frantic? Worried, he dived to his knees and wriggled underneath Caliath's body to get past the impervious dragon.

Lystar's weyr was dark. K'beth stood on the ledge and peered inside. 'Lystar?' he asked, loudly, but he knew she wasn't there. No one would be sitting there in the dark with their dragon crying outside.

That made him think of his own dragon. _Rosith?_

No response. The green was still caught up in the wild misery that gripped the Weyr. He reached out to her with his mind, surrounding her with soothing, calming thoughts and trying to offer comfort and reassurance. He should go back to her. As a dragonrider, his first duty was to his dragon. He should be with her until she calmed down and could explain what had upset her so.

But… K'beth hesitated. Rosith was in no real danger. And Lystar… who knew what she might have got herself into this time?

But he couldn't find her. It made him realise suddenly how dependent he was on being able to link up to Rosith to have questions answered across the length and breadth of Pern. How could the harpers – how could Jarrin – _ever_ manage without the constant mental links that stretched between all dragons everywhere to supply information?

It was while K'beth was hesitating, uncertain of his next move, that he noticed a glimmer of light from one of the weyrs a little further down the ledge. Thinking perhaps that its owner might know something, if Lystar was indeed at the heart of this trouble, he walked down towards it.

There was no dragon in the spacious outer room of the queen's weyr, but it didn't bother K'beth. Many dragons and riders in the dark and the confusion had moved down to join the shouting, confused crowd that were milling around, lighting torches and trying to establish the cause of the dragons' outburst. K'beth looked down at the mass of humanity and dragonkind below him, feeling oddly detached, and then stepped into Bessa's weyr and drew aside the heavy hide curtain which had bright glowlight leaking around the edges.

Lystar was there, slim and upright in the centre of the bright, bare room. She didn't turn as he entered, her head bent over something in her hands. K'beth frowned as he looked around, then stepped over to a chest by the wall, lifting the lid to see clothes neatly folded and stacked inside. He'd never been one of the men who frequented Bessa's rooms, but it was known all over the Weyr that the junior queenrider was an extragant, chaotic person. Her weyr was never tidy.

'I think she thought she'd leave it neat,' Lystar said, without turning round. 'Is that you, Weyrwoman?'

'It's me,' said K'beth, quietly. He could be quiet and still be heard, he realised. The dragons' wailing was beginning to die away into a soft keening moan that was tossed on the night breeze.

Lystar spun round. 'K'beth! How did you know –?'

'I'm beginning to have a sixth sense for when you're getting yourself into trouble. But I don't know what's happened. Rosith's ignoring me.' Lystar was holding a piece of parchment, he noticed, a single side covered with closely written, sprawling handwriting. All he could read was the name written on the outside: Lystar.

Surprised, he looked up at the girl. She was white and pale, her eyes gleaming, suspiciously as though she might begin to cry. 'Lystar, what's wrong? What's that?' He swallowed. 'You know why the dragons are upset, don't you? Is it –' he glanced round the lifeless, empty room. 'Is it something to do with Bessa and Halith?'

Slowly, reluctantly, Lystar nodded. 'They're dead,' she whispered.

'So that's what upset the dragons so much!' K'beth shook his head. 'How – what happened?'

'She… was unhappy.'

'Yes, but what –' He frowned. 'Lystar, are you telling me that – it was on purpose? That Bessa _deliberately_ took her dragon _between_?'

Lystar nodded, miserably. 'She couldn't think of anything else to do.'

'Anything else to do about what? Lystar, you're not making any sense.' He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her down to sit beside him on the edge of Bessa's bed. 'Begin at the beginning. What was Bessa so upset about?'

'She… was scared,' said Lystar, hesitantly. He could feel her trembling, and tightened his arm around her. 'She – oh, K'beth, it was her that gave the flamethrowers to those bandits! But she never meant to do any harm. They – or one of them, anyway – spun her a sob story about needing flamethrowers to protect their land from thread, but being refused them by their Lord.'

'Then she was stupid,' said K'beth. 'No Lord, not even a blind and uncaring one, stints on flamethrowers to his Holders.'

'I know. But, you know, she _wasn't_ clever, Bessa. And I think she – Gilda wasn't very kind to her, you know, and I think she enjoyed doing it without Gilda knowing. And she never – nobody ever told her anything. She didn't know about Z'kas, she thought he was threadscored, same as we all did. By the time she realised how serious it all was, it was too late to tell anyone. And she was too scared. She was terrified of Gilda.'

'And so she…' K'beth felt a lump rising in his throat at the thought of what Bessa had done. The thought of causing harm to come to any dragon was almost inconceivable to the dragonrider, but the idea of killing a queen was close to sacrilege. 'She must have been desperate.'

'She was. She… she met me, today, when I arrived back. She knew about you and me and Jarrin, Rosith told Halith, and meeting me was just – the last straw. K'beth, she was so afraid!' Lystar swallowed, and added softly, 'I know about being afraid.'

'Did she – tell you this?' K'beth asked, nodding at the parchment in Lystar's hands.

Lystar nodded. 'She left me a letter. She – I – when I met her today, she looked awful. I asked her if I could help. She – she had plenty of men willing to share her bed, but no one to rely on. I don't think – she said – I think no one had ever offered to help her before.' She swallowed again. 'Gilda wouldn't, you know. She isn't that kind of person. She never had any time for Bessa. I don't think anyone did. She had nobody except Halith to rely on, and Halith couldn't help her. So she really had nobody at all…'

Lystar began to cry, silently, tears rolling down her cheeks, and K'beth put his other arm around her, holding her close. Now there was no awkwardness. He gathered Lystar into his chest and rocked her gently.

'She didn't have to die,' he whispered.

'No.' Lystar's voice was muffled in his tunic. 'But perhaps… perhaps it's better this way. We couldn't have – forgotten Z'kas, and Jarrin, and everyone who suffered. But _we_ couldn't have done anything to her – not with Halith… So perhaps she was right. Maybe this _was_ the only way out. For everyone.'

K'beth gazed over Lystar's bent head and thought of the blonde girl who had been so beautiful and unhappy – and in the end so very brave. Perhaps Lystar was right – that Bessa's wrongdoing was too great to forget about. But the young queenrider had been alone, and confused, and scared, and had proved her courage – so her death was no less a tragedy for what her life had been.

K'beth felt his own eyes prick with tears.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Pern and the dragons of Pern belong to Anne McCaffrey**

**AN: So. This is it. The final chapter. That means a lot of wrapping up to be done. Particularly the one thing that I know a lot of you have been waiting for for quite some time now. So without more ado…

* * *

**

Lystar sat on the ledge outside her weyr, leaning back against the cliff that sheltered her from the blazing tropical sun. At this time of day, no one was moving in the Weyr bowl and Caliath was down at the feeding ground, so she could imagine herself alone in the whole of Pern.

She wanted to be alone – except for Caliath, who was so much a part of herself that he never intruded on her. She didn't want to talk to anyone.

She'd told R'lan and Reia about her eye. It didn't seem such a big thing any more. The Weyr had been flying thread without her anyway. But she didn't know what else she could do. There was nothing she was particularly good at.

And she didn't really want to go and find something to do, something constructive to spend her time on. Lystar felt drained. She wasn't physically tired – not any more – but it suited her fine to sit there in the shade, doing nothing very much, thinking of anything but one thing.

She saw K'beth come out of his weyr and make his way round the ledge towards her, and sighed inwardly. The greenrider was another puzzle she couldn't quite make out. He'd taken to dropping in to see her over the past few days, hanging around, not saying much, and then leaving again. She missed the old K'beth, the one who'd helped her through everything and been a staunch comfort in her trouble. But she supposed he had his own life to live. Problems of his own.

'Hey, K'beth,' she said quietly, smiling faintly at him.

'Lystar,' he said. He stood beside her, shifting his weight slightly from foot to foot, and impatiently flipped a strand of hair out of his eyes. She frowned.

'What's wrong?'

'You,' said K'beth. 'Every time I look out I see you sitting here, staring into space, and it's beginning to get to me. Lystar, Bessa's death was sad, but it's four days ago now. The dragons are over it. We won't forget, but – life goes on. Why doesn't it for you? I know she – that letter was addressed to you, but – why does Bessa's death matter so much more to you, Lystar?'

Lystar sighed, her eyes prickling. This was the thing she'd been not thinking about – hadn't wanted to think about. 'Because I could have stopped it,' she said, miserably. 'I saw her, and I saw how upset she was. All she needed was somebody to make her tell them the truth, to reassure her and comfort her. What she'd done was wrong, but it wasn't so wrong that she couldn't have been forgiven. She never meant any harm. And I knew she was hurting and I nearly – so nearly – went to her, and I didn't. I could have saved her and Halith, K'beth, and I was too lazy. It was my fault.'

'Faranth's egg, Lystar!' K'beth groaned. 'What is it with you blaming yourself for everything? I never hear anything from you but "it's my fault". Get a grip! The world doesn't revolve around you.' His voice was rising angrily, and Lystar stared at him, shocked. She'd never heard K'beth explode like this. 'In fact, you're being sharding stupid and self-centred! What you need to do is get up and go find something to do. Right now!' He turned and stormed away down the ledge, leaving Lystar half rising to her feet in surprise. K'beth's outburst had come from almost nowhere, and it was completely uncharacteristic. She stared after him. What had got into him?

Maybe he's right, though, she thought. I have been a bit – distracted, these last few days. I should think of something to do with my life now. _Cal? What do you think?_

The blue dragon paused eating to consider the question. _You have been very boring lately_, he said, eventually.

Lystar smiled wryly. _Thanks, Cal. I guess I'll go down the Lower Caverns, then, see if I can give Gilda a hand with anything_. She'd been avoiding Gilda recently. But Bessa's death wasn't really the Headwoman's fault, either.

Lystar hauled herself to her feet and headed for the stairs.

* * *

Gilda was in the centre of a tangle of bustling activity, wielding a ladle with deadly accuracy to bruise the fingers of any Weyrbrat who tried to sneak a fistful of food from the preparations for dinner.

'No, you cannot help me,' she said tartly, when Lystar made her request. 'I have no use for an untrained and cack-handed assistant. Go and see if you and that bony blue monster of yours can give Reia assistance with anything. She and R'lan have ben snowed under with requests for information about that brave stupid good-for-nothing girl.'

Lystar stared at her, wide-eyed. 'What?' the Headwoman snapped.

The girl shook her head. 'I've never heard you talk about anyone like that. You miss her.'

Gilda swallowed. Say what you like about her grandaughter, she had a trick for seeing into people's hearts. 'I'd be mad to miss that manhunting layabout,' she said, gruffly. 'Now get along with you.'

Lystar nodded, and turned away. A flame in the fire at Gilda's back leapt up, casting a bright light across her face as she turned, and Gilda saw her whiteness with an uncomfortable leap of her heart. 'What's up with you now?'

Lystar paused, then shrugged. 'Nothing really. K'beth snapped at me is all, and he doesn't usually –'

Gilda snorted. 'That one! I'm not surprised. He'll be biting everyone's heads off today.'

'What?' Lystar swung back.

Gilda rolled her eyes. 'His green's proddy. Now if that's all, off you go! I'm busy.'

* * *

Lystar climbed up the steps into the Weyr bowl, her head reeling. _Cal! Did you hear that? Rosith's going to rise!_

_I know_, said Caliath, smugly.

_You _know_? Why didn't you tell me?_

_You didn't want to be disturbed_, Caliath reminded her.

_This is different_. Lystar paused, and then asked, tentatively. _Cal, what are you going to do – when Rosith rises?_

_Catch her_. The blue said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

_Will you be able to? You're not as fast as a brown, if some join the flight_…

_I will catch her. What else could happen?_

Lystar could feel it too – the sense of inevitablility. When Rosith rose, Caliath _would_ catch her. Or would he? She frowned. She was fairly sure that he wouldn't – if she didn't want him to.

So, the next question would be – did she want him to?

Shouting and splashing broke out ahead of her, and Lystar's thoughts cut off. She broke automatically into a run towards the source of the noise. The Weyrlings! she thought, as she heard G'zul's voice bellowing above the confusion, and felt Caliath taking off from the feeding grounds to head for the lake as well.

By the time that Lystar and Caliath made almost simultaneous arrivals at the lake shore, G'zul had suceeded in restoring order to the situation. He was standing in front of a pair of identical sandy-haired boys, who were completely failing to look chastened by his angry speech. Lystar groaned. She'd never had much contact with the weyrlings, but she – like everyone else in the weyr – had heard all about the famous twins.

Still, it looked like G'zul was in control. Lystar left him to it, strolling over to lazily scratch Caliath's eyebrow ridge.

_Valenth is unhappy_, Caliath said, with a touch of concern.

Lystar swung around, looking back at the weyrlings. Sure enough, a large bronze at one edge of the group was fidgeting and shifting in the water. She frowned, and looked around for G'zul, but the weyrling master was at the other end of the group, standing over the twins as they scrubbed their dragons, and he was too far away to notice the bronze's distress.

Lystar hesitated. She wanted to find time to think about K'beth – but she remembered another person in trouble whom she had failed to stop and help. Swallowing hard, she dropped her hand away from Caliath's face and walked across to the edge of the lake.

Valenth's rider was a small, slightly built boy, who looked up with strained eyes as Lystar approached. 'Sir, I – oh. I beg your pardon, I thought you were the weyrling master.'

Lystar grinned. 'The weyrling master is breathing down the twins' necks as though he were a dragon himself, so I thought I'd stroll over. What's your trouble? I'll give you a hand.'

'Oh, would you?' the boy breathed, his eyes threatening to overflow into tears. 'He's just so _big_ and I'm not tall enough and I can't seem to reach everywhere and I _know_ I'm not looking after him properly and –'

'Whoa!' Lystar held up a hand to slow the tide of talk. 'Calm down, lad, or you'll upset Valenth. First things first – what's your name?'

'It's Dar – D'rid.' The boy was a new enough rider to still stumble over the honourific contraction of his name.

'Right then, D'rid. Now, you have to care for your own dragon, but I can show you a few tricks I know. My Caliath is only a blue, but he was all bones and angles while he was growing and very difficult to clean. Ask Valenth to lie down in the water and let's see what we can do.'

By the time that Valenth was cleaned to Lystar's satisfaction, all the weyrlings – and G'zul – had noticed Lystar's presence. She sent D'rid – red-faced and profusely thankful – away to feed his dragon, and began to go over to the weyrling master to explain, when a hand tugged unexpectedly on her left sleeve. 'Bluerider –'

Lystar'd trained herself not to jump, but her heart leapt inside her as she whirled round to see who was there. A startled weyrling stepped backwards, splashing in the ankle depth water. Lystar forced herself to breathe normally, and smiled at him. 'Sorry. What was it you wanted?'

'I don't know if you could help me,' the tall, soft-voiced boy said, hesitantly, 'but Maleth won't keep still to let me clean him…'

'Yes, I can help with that,' she said, reassuringly. _Cal? Can you talk to Maleth? I think it's just over-excitement_.

_I will make him be still_, said Caliath, and Lystar smiled at the boy.

'Caliath will talk to your dragon and keep him calm. But if you have this problem again, it might help if you chat to Maleth while you bathe him. He moves around because he's bored.'

She smiled, and turned back towards G'zul, then stopped. Most of the weyrlings were not interested in her, occupied with their dragons, but two or three were looking towards her hopefully.

One side of her mouth crooked up into a crooked smile. Then Lystar stepped over to the nearest. 'What can I help you with?'

Lystar wasn't able to speak to G'zul until all the dragons had been bathed and the weyrlings dismissed. Finally only she and the old weyrling master were left at the lake shore.

'I'm sorry for butting into your class –' she began, but G'zul waved her apology aside.

'No, don't be sorry, you were a big help. They're a big group – a mite too much for me, especially with those twins.' G'zul grinned at her. 'Always knew you'd turn out all right, whatever it looked like.'

'Well, it can't have looked promising!' Lystar laughed. 'You said I was the clumsiest, slowest weyrling you'd ever met.'

'Yes.' G'zul was suddenly serious. 'But I've been hearing as some of that might be down to a problem with your eye that no one knew about, young lady.'

Lystar gasped. 'How did you know –?'

'Thanks to a certain chattering green, I think you'll find half the Weyr knows now,' G'zul said, dryly. 'Oreth's got nothing to do with his time except gossip, so I heard early, but he won't be the only dragon Rosith told.'

Lystar swallowed. 'So you all know about me being so stupid and cowardly and…' She trailed off. G'zul had raised a shaggy white eyebrow.

'Don't know about that. What _I_ know about is you and your Caliath being heroes.'

Lystar laughed, incredulously. 'You must be joking! Me?'

'Yes. You.' G'zul clapped her on the shoulder. 'Congratulations, Lystar. Now I have to go and see what those abominable twins are up to now.' He walked off towards the Weyr bowl, leaving Lystar gaping after him.

_Did you hear that, Cal?_ She laughed. _We're heroes!_

'Oh, by the way…' G'zul stopped and looked back towards her.

'Yes?'

'Those weyrlings'll be learning to fly in another month or so. No telling what tricks the twins'll dream up then.' He looked at her sideways. 'I could really use another pair of eyes…'

Lystar's eyes widened in surprise and delight. 'I've only got one eye. But if it's of use to you…'

G'zul nodded. 'It's good enough.'

'Er – would it help if the weyrlings knew me and Cal in advance?' Lystar suggested.

'Might do, yes.' The weyrling master smiled at her. 'I'll see you tomorrow morning, then?'

'Yes! Yes, why not?' Lystar smiled. 'Thanks. Thanks, G'zul!'

The weyrling master laughed. 'Just wait until you come up against the twins. You won't be thanking me then.' He waved and strode off towards the Weyr bowl.

Lystar laughed. _Cal, we got a job!_

_Did I _want_ this job?_ Caliath asked her, tartly.

Lystar laughed again. She could feel the waves of smugness and pleasure rolling off the blue dragon, so she knew he wasn't really annoyed. _Old fraud. You're going to love it. Not many dragons your age can say they're assistant weyrling master_.

_Big name for a thankless job_, said Caliath, wryly. _Come on. I want to sleep_.

_You go on up to the weyr, then. I'll walk – I've got a lot to think about_.

Caliath drew himself up, spreading his broad wings, his wedge-shaped head swivelling down to look at her. _Are you happy, little one?_

_Yes_. She was, she realised. There was still K'beth to work out in her head, but – she was home. She and Caliath were well – and so was Jarrin, over in the Healer Hall. Somehow it had made it better – about Bessa – to know that Gilda missed her too. The sun was shining. And she had a purpose again. She was going to teach the weyrlings. She'd be good at that. She knew she would.

Lystar strolled through the Weyr in a quiet golden glow.

* * *

K'beth stepped into the corner of the uneven rock archway to let Caliath slide past him and into his weyr, the dragon pausing for a second to regard him with a brilliant sapphire eye.

'I'm waiting for Lystar,' K'beth explained.

Caliath watched him for a second longer, then dipped his head and slid past, leaving K'beth standing in the shadows.

When Lystar came up the stairway, drenched in brilliant sunshine, K'beth's heart clenched. She looked so bright and carefree. 'Hey there, Lystar,' he said.

Her eyes widened. 'K'beth. Hey,' she said, neutrally.

He frowned slightly. Something was off in her voice or her manner. He couldn't pinpoint it, but he knew something was wrong. He swallowed. 'Lystar, I just came to apologise… about shouting at you this morning. I'm sorry. It's just… I guess I'm nervous. Rosith's going to rise, and…'

Lystar turned faintly crimson, looking at the floor. 'Yes, I… I know…'

K'beth looked at her in sudden alarm. Weyrbred Lystar was used to seeing mating flights, and the idea itself didn't disturb her. It was obvious that she knew what Rosith had told him – that the flight could have only one outcome. 'Do you – do you mind so very much?' he asked, desperately, trying to keep his voice steady.

* * *

Lystar'd been surprised to find him there, waiting for her, his tall, dark shape blending with the shadows of the weyr entrance, and suddenly apprehensive. It was too early; she hadn't had time to think things through properly.

But she heard the pleading tone in his speech, and the way his voice cracked in the middle, and she took half a step forward without even thinking, lifting a hand to try and reach out to him in his distress.

And stopped. It was as if the whole world took a breath, an instant of complete stillness, and in that perfect moment Lystar looked up and met K'beth's eyes and saw him with a sudden clarity: the broad, laughing mouth and the dark eyes, asking her a heartfelt question that she had to find an answer for; shoulders braced to take her troubles as he'd been doing for so long; and a heart… a heart big enough to accept a clumsy, triumphant, one-eyed mess of a girl – and a tough, bony monster of a blue dragon into the bargain.

And she loved him. How could she not?

* * *

K'beth saw the tiny pause in her step, and his heart thudded against his rib cage so hard he felt sure that she must have heard it too; but as she looked up he could read her answer in her eyes.

'K'beth –' she began, but he held up a hand to silence her. Nothing needed to be said.

On the ledge, in the blazing tropical sunshine, not caring who might be around to see, K'beth drew Lystar into his arms and kissed her.

THE END

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**AN: All together now: Ahhh**

**I finished!!!! Whooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!! (t-d jumps up and down screaming and her family look at her like she's a total nutter) Excitement!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**I am very happy. As you can probably tell. So I think at this point it would be appropriate to stop and thank all you guys; thank you, your reviews have made my day many times, and it is such a big help and a confidence boost to hear all your comments (this is because you spoil me; but I won't complain). If you haven't reviewed so far, shame on you, but don't worry, it's not too late. Now is the time to reach for that little button on the left hand side of the screen. I do accept anonymous reviews, so it's no excuse that you don't have an account on FanFiction.**

**My exams are beginning this week, so I'm taking a break from writing until they're over. But if you liked Lystar's story, you might want to start looking out for a sequel sometime at the end of June or beginning of July…**

**Bye for now!**

**t-d**

**Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**


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